Broken Arrow
by Snoweylily
Summary: Another attack on Manhattan leaves Clint Barton alone, beaten up, and without the slightest idea where he was. He cant remember anything, not the Avengers, not SHIELD, not even his own name. So he starts again. A new life. A new past. A new everything. Without knowing that the Avengers were looking for him. Will the team ever find him? Or will he forever be a ghost in his own life?
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so I had this random dream last night about Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye, loosing his memory after another attack on Manhattan,**

**So I decided to try and write a fanfiction on it.**

**And this is the result.**

**Its set 100% in Legolas's Point Of View (POV)**

**And please don't be too harsh if its not that good, I still haven't fully planned it out!**

**Hope ye all enjoy it :)**

**Rachel**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

We got the call from Fury at exactly 8:03am. A small attack, but in the centre of Manhattan where they could cause the most damage. They were aliens, mutants even, and they were kitted out to the full. Guns, explosives, and what looked like a small army tank, but instead of shooting bombs that'll explode on impact, it shot cannon balls. Or what I hoped were cannon balls. Buildings came down under the strength, and cars were sent a good 20 or 30 meters back when they got hit with them, so our first priority was to get rid of the tank. Even though every alien had at least 2 machine guns with them at all times, they were as smart as a brick. Some even managed to shoot themselves with their own guns. So, obviously, they weren't as dangerous.

* * *

"Guys... I may have found another tank" Stark said slowly through the comms set.

"Might?" Steve asked, "Stark either you do or you don't".

"I could always tr-" Tony started but was cut off by a loud bang, "ok, yea, definitely a tank. Damn that hurt".

"Did you seriously just let yourself get shot?" Natasha asked as I put an arrow through another aliens head. I could almost hear her smirk.

"Yea. I did. And I don't recommend it" Tony replied, slightly static voice from the suit. I laughed; he really was a complete moran wasn't he? But hey, I wasn't the one to complain, he made my arrows... Speaking of arrows...

"Ah, guys? I'm kinda running low on ammo here" I said, reaching behind for one with an explosive tip.

"You're almost out of arrows?" Widow asked, "Already? How many did you bring?"

"All of them... Like... 24" I replied and Stark laughed. Natasha didn't find it as funny.

"You brought 24 arrows? 24 ARROWS? Clint, we're up against an entire alien army here!" she yelled.

"Yea and I just killed 24 of them" I replied, "You're welcome". Stark burst out laughing again but was quickly silenced by another bang, "Found three tanks. But that's defiantly it".

"Three tanks? Anyone found a way to destroy them?" Rogers asked again.

"Well, the other guys giving it his worst" Tony said.

"How's the tank looking?" Steve asked and Stark gave a low whistle, "Not. A. Scratch".

* * *

"So we're up against brainless alien mutants with machine guns, small tanks that even the Hulk can't dent, and the whole time Manhattan is being destroyed for the second time in 6 months?" I asked, reaching behind for another arrow.

"Yep" Natasha replied calmly.

"How much longer can ye guys last?" I asked again.

"Suits power is at 54% no, wait... Make that 52%" Tony said, "I'd say an hour, two hours at the most, and that's with all the backups used and all".

"I'm with Stark. An hour tops" Steve said.

"Same here" Nat said sighing, "what about you?"

"For fighting, I'd say an hour. Shooting? I'm fucked. No arrows left" I replied, stabbing an alien with my bow before folding it and tying it securely onto my back, getting into a fighting stance.

"So... Basically..." Natasha trailed off and I smirked, "we win this fight now, or we are sooo dead".

Kicking an alien in the stomach, I snapped its neck before picking up its gun and shooting down a few others. I was wrecked. I was scratched and bruised. And I had no bow or arrows to use. And I was simply not Hawkeye without my bow and arrows...

* * *

"GOT IT" Stark yelled suddenly and I flinched at how loud he was over the earpiece, "got what exactly?"

"The tanks. I got bored so I decided to throw one of its own cannon balls at it. It dented the armour around it. So I shot a small missile at the dent and it actually went through to the inside. It's just wires, that's it, which means someone's controlling these things from a computer or similar non-stark device" he replied excitingly.

"So we just have to give it a taste of its own medicine then shoot at it?" Natasha asked confused.

"Precisely. Though I cant do it" Tony replied.

"You're the only one here who has half a brain when it comes to technology and you're telling us you CAN'T shut these things down?" Steve asked amazed and i could almost picture Stark grinning.

"Course I know HOW to do it Cap, but I actually CAN'T".

"What do you mean you can't?" He asked.

"Well aside for the obvious reason that I'm the only one here with eyes on the sky and can shoot laser beams, the suits kind of big. It wouldn't fit with the wires inside. And even if I could fit, it's a suicide mission. Seriously, chances of surviving are pretty small" Tony replied. The suit was too big...

"Hey, Stark?" I asked, "how small exactly do you have to be?"

"Smaller than the suit anyway. But it's too small a gap for a normal man to fit through. And no offence Widow, but you'd need the strength of a guy to break it open..." he explained and Nat laughed softly, "none taken".

Too small for an average man... I was slightly shorter than average... And I was useless without my bow and arrows...

* * *

"Tash?" I asked and a second later a knife landed at my feet. I could just about make out her tall slim figure a few meters away in the swarm of aliens. But I still caught her smirk, "go get 'em".

Grinning, I picked up the knife, and began running.

"Wo, wo, wo. Hold on there Legolas. Where do you think you're going?" Stark asked flying overhead.

"You need someone to dismantle the tank don't you? Tell me what to do and I'll do it" I replied, stabbing a few aliens as I reached the tank. Tony was right. It had a huge hole on top. And there was A LOT of wires.

"Clint. I know your small and all" he said, "but you're still too big to fit".

"Trust me Stark. I can fit" I replied grinning.

"How do you know?" He asked confused and I grinned.

"Budapest" Natasha and I said at the same time before we burst out laughing.

"I'm not even going to ask" Steve muttered, "So you can fit. Great. But what did Stark say again?"

"Suicide mission" Tony repeated.

"Exactly" Rogers continued, "You get in that tank, you might not get out. I am ordering you no-".

"Save it for when I get back Cap" I replied cutting him off, putting the blade of the knife in my mouth as I began to climb up the side of the tank. And then, a few minutes later, I was in. Dropping down into the hole on top, I could just about squeeze into the tight compartment with all the wires. Here we go.

* * *

"Alright I'm in, now what?" I asked, taking the knife from my mouth and looking at all the different coloured wires and lights in front of me.

"Seriously? You actually fit? Wow that must have been something small in Budapest. Anyway, there should be a group of wires to your right, one green, one blue, one red, and two white" he replied, "greens for power, blues for the computer, reds for shooting, and the whites are what's telling it where and where not to shoot".

"So which one do I cut first?" I asked and he sighed, "That's the problem. Cut the green one and it'll go mental, most likely squashing you. Cut the blue and they'll be nothing telling it what and what not to do. Cut the red one first and it'll more or less explode. And if you cut the white ones first, it'll start shooting wherever it wants".

"What if I cut them all together?" I asked and he laughed, "Oh that'll defiantly cause an explosion".

"So it's up to me" I muttered and he sighed again, "Yep. And if you make the wrong move, we're going to die. No pressure". Ok so it was up to me. Time to do this.

* * *

The white one controls where it shoots... But the red ones what's making it shoot... Ok, I think I got this. Taking a deep breathe, I reached up and cut through both whites and the red together. Nothing happened. Ok. That was easier than expected. Now there was the blue and the green. The blue connected it to whoever was controlling all this, to whoever was behind this attack. Then the green was the thing that kept it moving. The single wire causing it to keep on going, the one that gave it all power. This was more difficult. But if I cut its power, the connection would be lost, and it'll still think it's being ordered about...

Grinning, I reached up, and cut through the blue wire, then the green one. Just as Stark had predicted, the machine went mental, driving around in circles and shaking. But it wasn't firing any more. Wincing as I was thrown about in the tiny compartment, I reached up, grabbing the ledge and pulling myself up and onto the roof, putting the knife back in my mouth. Unforcently, the tank didn't like the fact I was escaping and spun around really fast, throwing me off the side and two meters to the concrete ground below. Groaning, I shook the dizziness from my head, before quickly rolling as the tank charged past.

When it didn't hit me, it turned around and charged again. Guess it didn't like me. Jumping to the side, it drove past, barely an inch away. But instead of turning like I had expected, it simply stopped and backed back, slamming into the back of me. I fell to the ground once more, snapping my head of the concrete, but I barely had time to register the blood pouring from my head before I had to roll over again as the tank charged back. I thought I had cut the power from this guy? Ah, ok, yep, there it was. A second later, the tank beeped before suddenly stopping. It was dead.

Slowly sitting up, I thought back to Starks words. Hadn't he said it would expl- A huge bang cut me out of my thoughts and sent me flying back into the side of a car -ode? Explode. There we were. Looking up through the smoke, I smirked at the burnt out remains of the tank. It was dismantled. Severely.

* * *

"Hawkeye report".

Steve's clear words broke through the deadly silence.

"Hawkeye... Report" he repeated and I shook my head against the blackness creeping in. Man I had hit it pretty hard.

"Hawkeye, REPORT" Steve said again, more anxious this time and I grinned, pressing a hand to my ear piece, amazed that it stayed intact, "Hawkeye clear".

* * *

I heard them all breathe a sigh of relief and a few seconds later Tony landed in front of me in the iron man suit, "You seriously got to watch the video of that later".

"You videoed it?" I asked and he laughed, holding out his metal clad hand, "course. You looked like those bull fighting guys. Videos going on You Tube too".

Grinning, i took his hand and he pulled me up, "are you ok?"

I dusted off my clothes, still grinning, "A little beaten up but nothing i can't handle. So yea, I'm fine. And I'm ready for round 2".


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

A few minutes later and I was walking to tank number 2, the knife at the ready in my hand. Stark had gone ahead, blowing a hole on the roof of the thing, and now I was about to defeat the odds of my survival yet again.

"All yours Barton" Tony said and I saw him fly away.

* * *

A few seconds later and I was climbing up the side of the tank, almost falling when the machine fired another cannon ball. The after-shock sent tremors through my whole body. But I managed to stay on, and 4 seconds later, I was on top. This time however, instead of going into the tiny compartment, I kept my legs on the roof and bent over backwards into it. It would be easier and quicker to get off when the machine got angry. Lets see, the wires were… there. Ok, got it. Just like before, I slit through the white and red wires together, before cutting the blue, then the green. And also like before, the machine went crazy, but this time I was ready for it.

* * *

Grabbing the ledge next to my legs, I pulled myself up, and slid down to the ground, backing away from the tank until there was a good few meters between us. But it still charged at me.

"Here we go" I muttered jumping to the side at the last minute. I rolled a few times but was already on my feet before I stopped. Another charge at me. Another escape. Another charge. And this time, I simply stepped to the side, calmly walking away. A split second later, it exploded. Yawning, I pressed my hand to the earpiece again, "Its dead".

"Subtle Barton, real subtle" Tony teased, flying over the explosion and leading the way to the third, and final, tank. A minute or two later, it also had a huge hole on it and I was climbing up the side.

"So, Clint, I was thinking. Woul-" Tony said slowly and I rolled my eyes, "Black, Stark. They've got to be black".

"You don't even know what I was going to ask" he protested and I grinned, "You want to know what colour flowers to send to my funeral".

"…Alright fine, yea, you got me" he replied sighing and I laughed, "Don't worry Stark, you wont have to make that decision".

"Exactly" Natasha growled and I smirked, "Does that mean you actually CARE about me Tash?".

"Don't push your luck Barton" she shot back as I reached the top.

"Well, on the off chance I DO die, black flowers Stark. And don't you dare bury me in a dress" I said grinning and I could almost hear him roll his eyes, "Would I honestly do that to my best buddy? …Ok yea, I probably would, I see your point. No dress's I promise".

"Or skirts, or anything shorter than my ankles" I continued, bending down into the compartment like before, "Now everyone shut the fuck up so I don't end up exploding all of Manhattan".

* * *

Reaching down, I easily found the wires, cutting through them in the correct order. Time to get out of here. Smirking, I pulled myself up, about to slide down like before. Only I couldn't. The end of my shirt got caught in the side of the sharp metal. I was stuck.

Ok, calm down, this wasn't a big deal, I just had to pull… But that didn't work. The leather was firmly twisted around the sharp metal, and was refusing to budge. Gulping, I quickly got the knife and began to cut around it. And cutting through leather, trying not to hit off wires, and avoiding the metal that could

* * *

slice open my hand, the whole time being upside-down, was rather difficult. And was getting me no-where.

"Ah… Legolas? You might want to move" Stark pointed out, "The tanks going to blow in less than 20 seconds".

"As much as I would love to Stark. I'm a little tied up here" I growled, wincing as the metal cut open my stomach.

"What do you mean by 'Tied up' exactly?" Steve asked slowly and I swore angrily, "What I mean Cap, is my fucking jacket is caught and I can't twist out of it".

"Ok, your screwed, I might be sending flowers yet" Stark said laughing.

"Stark" Natasha said, "He's serious".

"…Honestly?" Tony asked and I swore again, "For fucks sake Stark, do you honestly think I want to get blown up?".

"…I see your point. Fuck. But this things gonna blow in about 10 seconds. It'll take me about 20 to get over there on full power. And Hulky's a little busy fighting aliens and all that. So unless you get out now…". He trailed off. There was no need to explain. I either get out now. Or I die.

* * *

Twisting around, I tried to untie the clasps but they were still caught on the metal. And the metal was digging into my chest even further, taking all my strength not to cry out. Instead, I swore. Again. In Russian. Using the strongest words I knew. Only Natasha would understand me… Only Natasha…

"Таш? Если я умру ... Просто продолжать нормально?" I said and she swore, "Дерьмо! Ваша боль не так ли?".

(Tash? If I die… Just carry on ok?) (Shit! Your hurt aren't you?)

I smiled slightly, she could read me like a book, "Немного ... Ну, много, я не могу чувствовать себя живот".

(Just a little ... Well, a lot, I can't feel my stomach)

"Как большой шрам?" she asked.

(How big a scar?)

"Нижней части живота, над моей талии. Около 6 см в ширину. ебля металла " I replied.

(Lower stomach, above my waist. About 6 inches wide. Fucking metal)

She gave a low whistle, "Stark, how long until till the tank blows?".

"Oh so your including me in your little Russian get together? Cause I was seriously starting to thin-". "STARK" I snapped, cutting him off, "HOW LONG?".

"Give or take 5 seconds" he replied. I was going to die wasn't i?

"Таш ... Не убивайте Старк, когда я уйду" I said quietly.

(Tash… don't kill Stark when I'm gone).

"Don't you DARE speak like Clint" she warned, "Your going to get out. Your going to get stitches. And your going to get that 6 inch scar whether you like it or not".

"Wo, wo, wo, 6 inch scar? Stitches? What did I miss here?" Steve asked as I cut through more leather. And that… That was it… I had cut through the clasps… I was out.

* * *

Ignoring the pain, and the blood trickling down my stomach, I pulled myself up, moving as fast as I possibly could, and jumped off the roof of the tank. I hit the deck running. And then it exploded.

The force of it knocked me off my feet and I felt the fire on my back. So I did the first thing that came to mind. Duck. I hit the ground with a soft thud, covering my head with my hands, and felt the flames go over me. Everything was moving in slow motion, yet seemed to be flashing by all at once. And then it was done. Over.

* * *

"Clint?". That was Natasha . "Clint? Can you hear me?".

"Barton. Answer me" Steve ordered, but he couldn't hide the slight worry in his voice.

"Legolas?". That was Tony. And man did he sound quiet.

"Для трахается ради Клинта, ответь мне!" Natasha yelled.

(For fucks sake Clint, ANSWER ME!)

"SOLIDER REPORT" Rogers shouted.

* * *

Then the flames finally died down a bit, but I had a huge gash across my stomach, and my back was scalded by the fire. But I was still alive. I was still breathing. And I still had dismantled the last tank. I slowly sat up, propping myself up against the nearest car. I survived. That's all that mattered. Grinning, my hand found its way to my earpiece once more, "Remind me to ask Fury for an early vacation will ya?".


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"Oh my god, your ok" Natasha breathed, laughing weakly.

"Your… your still alive?" Steve asked, "…Thank god. You almost gave me a heart attack there".

"For fucks sake Clint. DON'T. DO. THAT. Now come on, we're going home" Stark said firmly.

"Home?" I asked, my voice scratchy, "What about…".

"The aliens?" Stark asked, "Eh… their dead. And the explosions kinda wiped the rest out. Now stay put, I'm coming to get you".

I grinned, coughing through the smoke. Home. Sounded perfect right now. Just perfect.

* * *

"Hey, Barton… BARTON" someone yelled and my eyes snapped open to find Tony in front of me. Well… Iron Man… Still had the suit.

"Yea?" I asked, heavily coughing again.

"You look like shit. Even though your shirtless" he replied and I smiled weakly, "thanks man".

"Anytime" he replied, "Now the other two are back at the tower, and Banners still mean and green so they cant help. And I have no idea what to do. And I just don't go all mushy and shit on people so really I seriously haven't the slightest idea on what to ask here and if I did I would ha-".

"Stark" I said, cutting him off, "Just get me home".

* * *

He laughed slightly, helping me to my feet and JEASUS did that HURT. I stumbled, almost falling back down, except for Stark catching me.

"Guess you cant walk then?" he asked teasingly and I took my hand away from my stomach. It was covered in blood. Literally. The dark liquid was dripping off my tanned skin, and forming splatters of red on the ground. Stark noticed too.

"Jeasus Christ. Come on, we got to get you back to SHIELD, get an ambulance or something" he stammered.

"Stark. I'm fine. Ok, I'm not exactly 100%. But iv been through worse. Just get me to the tower, and I can sort myself out" I replied calmly. He stared at me in disbelief. Sighing, I clasped my hand back over my stomach, "Tony, seriously. You know how much you hate hospitals? Yea? Well I do too. So put yourself in my shoes. And help me home".

"Whatever you say Legolas" he muttered, putting my other hand over his metal shoulder, "Hold on". And then we were gone.

* * *

"Bruce? Natasha? CAPCICLE?" Stark yelled once we reached the tower. He carefully dropped me onto the couch and took off his armour, returning to my side a few seconds later, "You do know you've gone really pale right?".

I smiled weakly, "So have you. But for a completely different reason".

"And that would be? Well actually, I don't want to know. But if you stop talking, your going to black out. And a knocked out Hawkeye I cannot handle right now" he replied, his words rushing.

"Stark. Calm down. I'm gone white cause of blood loss. Your gone white cause your absolutely terrified of a knocked out Hawkeye. And Natasha. Your scared that she'll kill you if I do black out" I replied and he laughed, "True. Now stay here. And don't fall unconscious. And don't die. And I'll get help". With that, he ran off, shouting random names and orders to Jarvis.

Wincing, I slowly sat up, leaning back and biting back a yelp as my back suddenly felt like fire. Fucking explosion burned me. Slowly stretching out the hand not on my stomach, I twisted it to the side. It was completely burned. Skinned, red flesh showing along with black scorch marks. I had NEVER gotten this badly burned. I don't think I ever actually did get burned…

* * *

"Bruceys on his way and he'll be her…" Stark trailed off, rushing into the room as he saw me. I looked up at him expectantly, "What?".

He stared at me, then at my arm, then back at me again, "Your practically… Still on fire… And you don't feel it?".

"I feel it all right. But as I said, iv been through worse" I replied and he sighed sitting down across from me, "You are some crazy bastard Clint".

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment" I shot back and he laughed slightly before suddenly looking up, "Bruceys here. Good. I'm not the only one responsible for your death then". I shook my head laughing, looking up as Banner came in, medical bag in hand. Surprisingly, he didn't seem that tired.

"You, out" he said pointing at Tony, before looking me up and down, "And you, are the worst looking out of everyone".

"Another compliment, you shouldn't have" I teased grinning and he smiled slightly, "Your also the happiest out of everyone for some strange reason".

"See ya buddy" Stark said, patting my head as he passed before whistling softly and turning back to me, "Your shoulders are the same as your arm. Nasty looking".

"And all my back, my other arm, and basically everything waist up" I replied calmly, "Goodbye Stark".

* * *

Half an hour later, I was in my room, still at the Avengers Tower. And much to Starks amusement, I was still shirtless. My stomach had 24 stitches across it, and my shoulders and back had 2nd degree burns. And even though I had bandages around both injuries, it still hurt like hell and wearing a shirt just made it that much more horrible. So I just put on a loose leather jacket, leaving it open, as I leaned against the wall, just staring out the window.

"Clint?" someone asked quietly and I turned to the door. Natasha. When she saw me, she ran over, pulling me into a tight hug, "Don't do that. EVER. I thought… I thought…". She couldn't continue. And I felt tears run down my chest from where she had buried her head. She was… she was crying? Natasha never cried… I had only ever seen her tear up like… twice… And one of those was fake… So this was only the second time I had ever seen her cry. Wow.

"Shhh, Tash, its ok" I muttered, resting my head on her hair.

"But you… you were… you were DEAD" she choked out, "I thought you were gone".

"But I'm not. I'm here. In one piece… sort of" I said grinning and she laughed, pulling away and looking me up and down, her eyes resting on my stomach, "6 inch scar?".

"6 inch scar" I repeated and she smirked, "Told you you'd have to get stitches. Anything else". I dropped my gaze. "Clint" she warned and I flinched as she put her hand on my shoulder.

"There?" she asked sighing, "Come on, show". I didn't move. Sighing again, she walked around me, pulling down my jacket and then she froze. Slowly turning to face her, I shrugged back on my jacket and waited for her to speak.

* * *

It was a few more minutes before she did.

"Bandages…" she said slowly, "Covering your whole back".

"Yea. Bandages" I replied calmly and she swore, rolling up the jacket sleeves, "Covering your WHOLE BACK. And your shoulders. And now your arms. What the hell happened?".

"The tank exploded" I said slowly, "I didn't get out fast enough".

"…Burn marks? You literally got hit by the fire?" she yelled and I sighed, putting my hands on her shoulders, "Tash. Calm. Down. I'm ok, your ok, and the teams ok. We're all alive. That's all that matters".

She swore again in angry Russian, wiping away the tears with the back of her sleeve, "But it's because of you. Who knows how long we would have lasted in your hadn't gotten rid of the tanks. And now look what's happened to you".

"I'm fine Tasha, honest".

"But what about later? When those bandages come off, your shoulders will be scarred, as well as everything else. And then you'll be wi-". She was cut off by a loud beep. Slowly I reached down into my pocket, pulling out my phone and flicking it open.

"Tash" I said slowly, handing her the phone. She read over it quickly before looking back up at me, "You cant".

"Your not going in on your own" I shot back.

"Clint. Your hurt" she replied and I laughed, "Oh and your not? Either I'm coming with you. Or they can get someone else".

"… I'll get a car" she said finally and I grinned, "That's all I wanted to hear". She tossed me the phone before disappearing back out the door and I looked down at the message again. It was from Fury. SHIELD business. He needed Nat and I to take down some dangerous drug sellers. He wanted us back on the field.

We were going in.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Ready?" Fury asked as Natasha and I checked our weapons. Nat shot me a look but I ignored her, and turned to Fury instead, "Ready".

* * *

"You sure you're up to this?" Nat asked quietly as we silently ran towards the old building.

"Tash, look at me. I'm up and running aren't I?" I asked and she sighed, "Barely".

"Fine. Once we're done this mission, I'll take a day off, deal?" I asked and she smirked, "2".

"2 days? That's a lot Tasha" I replied grinning and she shrugged innocently, "Why not 3 days then?".

"2" I said quickly, "Ill settle for two. Deal?".

She smirked, "Deal".

* * *

"I'll go in first, you take around back" Natasha muttered to me once we reached the building. Nodding once, I quietly crept up towards the main door, bow at the ready with an arrow notched. Silently I counted down in my head.

5…4…3…2…1…GO.

I kicked down the door, and charged in, ready to put an arrow through someone's head… But there was nobody there. At all. But the first thing I had learned about being a secret agent, was to NEVER let appearances fool you, whether in a person, or in this case, a location. So I kept my guard up, and silently checked all the other rooms. Nothing. There was no-one there.

"This ends clear" I muttered through the comms set.

"Same here. Ground floor clear" Natasha replied, emerging behind me, "Upstairs?".

"I've a feeling there's a basement of some sorts. Evil lair and all that" I replied looking around and she smirked, "Stereotype villain. You look, I handle the second floor".

"See you in 5" I replied grinning, walking back down the hall. But after another 10 minutes of searching, I found nothing, and by the time I made it back up to the ground floor, Natasha had called the all clear. The house was empty.

It was a set up.

* * *

"Tash we have to get out" I said, running back towards the main door, but someone jumped out, blocking my tracks. A man. Someone who I did not know. I automatically fired an arrow at him but he jumped out of the way and pointed a gun at me, "Open your mouth, and I'll blow your fucking head off". Natasha. I had to protect Natasha. So I did the most idiotic thing yet. I opened my mouth.

"Таш у вас есть, чтобы выйти. Сейчас! Он имеет треугольную меня, я не могу сопротивляться. Перейти сохраните-" I shouted but I was cut off by the angry cursing of the man as he pulled the trigger.

* * *

(Tash you have to get out. Now! He has me cornered, i can't fight back. GO, SAVE YOUR-)

* * *

The gunshots were not as loud as I had anticipated. The metal fragments, shooting through the air, pierced my chest and I stumbled back, dropping my bow in surprise. I was stunned, sliding down the wall as blood started pouring from four bullet holes across my chest. My vision was fading, the black creeping in, but I knew if I closed my eyes now, I may never wake up.

"Clint… CLINT" Natasha screamed over the comms and I smiled slightly, "Эй Таш ... Скажи остальным, я ... Мне очень жаль, ладно?".

* * *

(Hey Tash... Tell the others I'm... I'm sorry, ok?)

* * *

"No… NO Clint. You are NOT GOING TO DIE" she yelled, "I'm coming to get you ok? Just don't die on me".

But she was too late. I glanced up as the man walked over to me, swearing under his breath as he picked up my legs, dragging me along towards the main door. The last thing I remember was Natasha screaming in my ear.

Then I closed my eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

*Beep…Beep…Beep-Beep-Beep*. I shot open my eyes, frantically looking around. Where was i? Where the FUCK WAS I?

"Calmez-vous Monsieur, calmez-vous!" someone said pushing me back and I looked up at the man in front of me. Who the hell was he? Where was i?

* * *

(Calm down sir, Calm down!)

* * *

"Vous devez calmer monsieur. Votre à l'hôpital" he said calmly, gently sitting me up against a pillow. A pillow? I was in a bed. Why the fuck was I in a bed?

* * *

(You have to calm down sir. Your in hospital)

"Là, c'est mieux. Êtes-vous bien maintenant?" he asked and I stared at him blankly. French. He was speaking French. I understood French… How did I understand French?

* * *

(There, that's better. Are you ok now?)

* * *

"Où suis-je? Qui êtes-vous? Quel est cet endroit?" I asked confused.

* * *

(Where am I? Who are you? What is this place?)

* * *

"Un monsieur de l'hôpital. Vous préférez pas l'anglais?" he asked. English. He was asking if I spoke English. Well I was thinking in English… so that meant I could speak it as well.

"Either works for me" I replied and he smiled slightly, "OK then. English it is. As I've said sir, your in a hospital. In Paris. I'm a doctor here, and your currently my patent". A patent? I was sick? I slowly reached up my hand, turning it around. There was two needles going into my skin. Following them up to two separate bags, I turned back to the doctor confused. He sighed, sitting down in the chair next to my hospital bed, "Ones for blood loss. The others an IV".

"Blood loss?" I asked and this time HE looked at me confused, "Yea. When you came in you were almost dead". Almost dead? What? What had happened?

"…Why am I here?" I asked.

"You… You were shot. Bullet wounds. Four times. Across your chest. You also had 2nd degree burns across your entire back and shoulders, and a deep wound in your stomach. But they had already been seen to. What happened to you?" he asked. Bullet wounds? Burns? Stomach wound? What the hell had happened to me?

"Hey. Come on, focus" he said, "I need to know what happened".

"I… I cant… I cant remember" I replied quietly and he sighed, "That's acceptable. It'll all come back to you later on. But as for now, I have to ask you some questions. Family and all that". Family? I had no family… did i? Did I have a family?

"So lets start with the basics" he said, taking out a clipboard, "What's your name?". My name? He wanted to know my name… What was my name?

"Sir, you name" he repeated and I looked up at him, only realising the truth now, "I… I… I don't know".

* * *

He asked another few questions, the doctor, before telling me he had to talk to another doctor. Then he left.

I didn't answer any of his questions… I couldn't… Because I couldn't remember…. I couldn't remember who I was. I couldn't remember my name… or my birthday… or any friends or family. I didn't know my age, where I was from, I didn't even know whether I preferred Pepsi or Coke. Nothing. I could remember nothing. No memories. No names. Not even a fucking phone number. I knew nothing. I was nothing. I was empty

The doctor came back a few minutes later, followed by a dull looking man who stood at the door. I didn't like the look of him.

* * *

"Remember anything?" the doctor asked and I shook my head, "If I did, do you honestly think id be waiting patiently?".

"Probably not" he admitted, "But you still might have thought of something".

"…How did I get here?" I asked suddenly and he stared at me, "What do you mean?".

"Well did someone bring me in, or was it by ambulance?" I asked again and he sighed, "You've been unconscious for a week. And hundreds of people pass through here every day. But I think it was two men… Yes, it was. Two men carried you in, paid for your time here and left".

"No phone number? No names? They left nothing?" I asked.

"Well as you can imagine, when a man comes in with four bullet holes in his chest, barely breathing, its more important to help him than to question the people who brought him" he replied and I nodded slowly, "But they paid you. Wouldn't you have to have a name for that?".

"They paid in cash. Upfront. We didn't ask questions".

"Very stupid of ye" I shot back and the man at the door coughed awkwardly. We both turned to him.

"Yes?" I asked annoyed and he gave a small smile. It didn't suit him.

"My name is Dr. Blunt" he said.

"How unfortunate" I replied but he ignored me, "And I'm a psychologist in this hospital ward".

I turned back to the doctor, "A shrink? Honestly?". He sighed and stood up, walking to the door, before stopping suddenly, his hand on the door knob. Slowly he turned back to me.

* * *

"What?" I asked. He remained silent but walked over to a small press in the room, opening it and slowly pulling out a jacket. He glanced up at me, as if wondering if I remembered it, but once I shook my head, he turned back to the black leather, and began searching through the pockets. A few seconds later, he froze, slowly pulling out what looked like a leather wallet. Putting the jacket back in the press, he opened the black pouch, flicking through a few things before stopping. He eyes widened slightly, before he looked up to me, then back down again.

"This might help" he said, tossing it to me. I caught it easily. An automatic response. A natural reflex. I saw him take a mental note of that fact before I focused my attention on the wallet, "What is it?".

He smiled slightly, "Its your ID".

* * *

I stared at the drivers licence in front of me, as I had done for the past hour. The doctor and Mr. Blunt had left within a few minutes of getting no response from me. What did they expect? Barely two hours ago I had woken with four bullet wounds, a stomach wound, severely burned back and shoulders, only to find I couldn't remember a thing about my life or past, and then, just like that, I had been given an ID.

So I just stared at it. Stared at the man in the picture. He had dark brown hair, spiked up naturally, with greeny-blue eyes. He had a slightly flattened nose, and a small mouth, quirked up into a slight smirk. And he was clean-shaven, with smooth skin. Slowly I reached up, rubbing my chin. Unlike this man, I had short stubble, a few days old. But this man was me. I was this man. We were one.

Tearing my gaze away from the picture, I read over the details again. According to my drivers license, my name was Sebastian Gomez, I was 35 years old, 5ft 9 in height, green eyes, brown hair and I was Mexican citizen. It even gave the address, my address, of where I lived in Mexico… I was Mexican. But I didn't look Mexican. I wasn't tanned enough, didn't have dark enough eyes. But that's what it said. And right now, the ID was all I had. And I clutched it like a drowning man.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

After another three days, I was allowed out. It also helped I annoyed the hell out of anyone who came near me. So they practically kicked me out once I was well enough. But hey, that's all I wanted.

I had found other things from my… clothes. The clothes I had on when the two men brought me in. Black leather jacket. White shirt. Dark denim ripped jeans. And black sneakers. I had to admit, I had style. And the jacket had pockets. Pockets that had what I presumed was my stuff. I had the drivers license, a passport, some cash, a bunch of keys, silver Rolex watch, and a Nokia mobile phone that had no contacts what-so-ever. Yep, I had style alright.

* * *

And so I decide to go... Home... As strange as that word sounded. Home. Mexico. The two words didn't seem to... Click. I didn't know how to describe it. They just seemed... Wrong together. Like they weren't meant to be as strange as that is. But according to my only personal belongings, that's where I lived. And that's where I lived. What I was doing in France was beyond me. Business... Family... Holiday... I didn't know. I didn't know anything. Just my name, my age, and my address. That was it. I didn't know if I lived alone, with a friend, or if I even had a wife and three kids waiting for me, but I was soon going to find out. So with the little money I had, I bought a plane ticket, and after getting through customs smoothly, though I did get a few strange looks for not having any baggage, I was on my way. On my way out of France. On my way back home. On my way to find some answers.

* * *

Whatever I'd been expecting, this house was most certainly not it. I looked back down at the same address given in both my license and my passport before glancing back up at the house in front of me. I had the right place alright. But this places was... Well... Not at all like I thought it would be. I had expected an apartment, a small flat, maybe even a cottage. But this... This was a MANSION. It was HUGE. Three stories high, in perfect condition, with a two-car garage connected to the side. It was... Amazing. Slowly I pushed open the gate and began walking up the long drive. The other houses on either side were the same huge, beautiful design, but none were a three story. I had a feeling I was sort of rich. And that thought thrilled me more than it should have had.

When I got to the door, I reached up my hand to knock, stopping myself at the last minute. This is your house for gods sake, get a grip man. So instead of tapping on the double doors, I took the bunch of keys out of my pocket, a tried one in the lock. It didn't fit. The next key was for a car. The third key didn't fit either. I was just about to give up, thinking maybe I really had gotten the wrong house, before catching my breath as the fourth key slid into the lock perfectly. Slowly, I twisted it until I heard the definite click, before pushing open both doors.

* * *

If I thought outside was perfect, inside was beyond my wildest dreams. In front of me was a room which could only be described as the grand hall, with it's white marble floor, and pillars on either side of me. In front of me, there was a glass table with a fancy looking phone in the centre, and behind that was the staircase. Or rather, two staircases, one on either side of the room, that met in the middle before forming one, elegant stairway up to the second floor. It was marble, all so white in colour, and had gold encrusted railings. And all three parts must have been at least three meters wide, big enough for four of five grown men to walk last each other and still have room. It was the sort of room that I was afraid to touch in case I broke anything.

"Hello?" I called out, dropping my keys on the table and wandering from room to room. No answer. And the other rooms were just as spectacular. The dining room even had a table long enough to sit twelve. And each room had glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It was beautiful. It was elegant. It was graceful. And it must have cost a fortune.

Wandering back to the hall, how easy it was to get lost, I slowly began walking up the stairs, "Hello?".

Still no answer.

"Anyone home?" I asked again and man, did that feel weird on my tongue. It wasn't right. And there was still no reply. At the top of the stairs, there was three sets of double glass doors, going out onto a balcony so big, it could have held the entire population of Iceland. But I ignored that for now. Instead, I began making my way down the corridor to my right, opening each door as I passed. But I found nobody. And the house was still empty once I had checked down the left hallway, and even the garage, where, believe it or not, I had found a ferrari. And a Mercedes-Bien. And a sleek, black motorbike. I instantly preferred the motorbike which led me to believe I was a fan before I decided to get shot and lose my memory. Quiet an eventful day.

After searching the rest of outside, the bloody grounds were at least 12 or 13 acres, I decided to retreat for the night. I got something to eat, surprised to find the fridge fully stocked, and even more surprised to find I could make pancakes, then went to bed. And you could just tell that the bed hadn't been used that often. The whole house had the same feeling. Sure, it was somebody's house. It was MY house. But it was not my home. It was lived in, but not loved. Simply there for the basic requirements. Food. Water. Shelter. Sleep. That was it. But it was mine. And that fact still hadn't kicked in.

* * *

A flash of a red, blue, and white shield flying through the air… A giant, green rage monster… A deadly arrow on a sleek black bow… Explosions… Bullets… Fire… Aliens… Mutants… Trying to kill me…

* * *

I shot up, suddenly wide awake. Just a dream… Or was it memories? I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and silently walking over to the ceiling-to-floor length mirror. Slowly, I turned around. The bandages had been removed before I left. And now there were dark red, long, scars covering my shoulders and some of my back. A single, faint white scar crossed my stomach when I turned back around. And then there was the bullet holes. Four, all so dark red marks, running diagonally across my chest, each one about 3inches apart, starting just above my left hip, to just below my right shoulder. Scars. Memories. Memories I couldn't remember. Slowly, I walked back over to the king-sized bed. I was just a ghost in this house. No past. No future. Just a presence. I was practically dead. Empty. Invisible.

Sleep took a long time coming to dead mans bed that night.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

I need to get a job.

That was the first thing I thought when I woke up the next morning. I had to get money. I had to get a hobby. I just had to have something to do. I already might have a job. Who knows? But I couldn't remember whether I did or not, so I would have to get a new one. I didn't even know what I liked, so I had no idea where to start. But my mind constantly found its way back to the hospital in France. A doctor. Good pay. You help people. And I might meet another doctor or someone passing through who knew me. Or knew something ABOUT me. Either one would help. So I decided to become a doctor. As strange as it was.

Of course, I couldn't just BECOME a doctor, there was a training course, college, getting degree's and all that. And at 32 years old, I wasn't the youngest to start college. So I decided to just do volunteer work. Until I had enough money for college. It felt really weird saying that. I was going to college. It was like being a high school student all over again. Minus the fact I had no memories of high school. But I imagined this is what it would feel like. So yea, I was going to college.

* * *

"¿Quieres hacer voluntariado?" the receptionist asked.

* * *

(You want to do volunteer work?)

* * *

"Sí" I replied and she nodded, "Siempre podemos hacer con ayuda extra por aquí. Empiezas mañana. Las 6 am. No llegues tarde"

* * *

(Yes) (We could always do with the extra help around here. You start tomorrow. 6am. Don't be late)

* * *

"Eso es todo lo que pido. Gracias" I said nodding and she smiled briefly before picking up a ringing phone.

* * *

(That's all I ask. Thank you)

* * *

I quickly wandered back out into the hospitals car park. I had gotten a job. Or rather, a volunteer job. But I had learned two new things in the process. One, I could speak Spanish. Two, I could ride a motorbike. Grinning, I put on my black helmet again before mounting my bike, kicking it to life, and driving off. I was getting by. And that's all I needed.

Pushing the motorbike into the garage, I closed the door and wandered back to the house, locking the main door behind me. What happened next, was defiantly not what I was expecting.

* * *

"DADDY" someone yelled, and I stumbled back as a young girl charged into me, clutching my leg protectively. What the FUCK?

I quickly regained my balance and looked down at her. She was only about 3 or 4 years old, with long dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Who the hell was this child?

"Ah, your back, I missed you" someone else said and I looked back up just as a woman came over and kissed me. I immediately tensed up and she pulled away, "What's the matter?".

She was just as beautiful as the little girl, waist-length wavy blond hair, tall, a tan, sparkling blue eyes, and she was pregnant. She stared at me confused for a minute before crying took over her attention and she quickly walked back to the kitchen, re-emerging with a little boy, only about 1 years old. And just like this woman, he had bond hair, but had dark greeny-blue eyes… my eyes… oh no… oh god no…

Slowly I raised my left hand, staring at my middle finger. I had never noticed before. But it had a golden band around it. A ring. A wedding ring.

* * *

"Your… Your my wife?" I asked, looking back up at the woman. She nodded slowly, "As I have been for the past 7 years". I looked back down at the little girl who was sucking her thumb with one hand, still clutching my leg with the other. Then my gaze raised back to the baby boy who had stopped his crying and was staring at me with huge eyes.

"And these… these are my children?" I asked and she nodded again, "What's going on Bas? Your starting to scare me". Bas. Sebastian. My name.

"Just… Just give me a minute" I said, slowly wandering over to the sitting room and sitting down, running a hand through my hair. Through the same coloured hair as the little girl. As MY little girl. I had a daughter. And I had a son. And a third child on the way. I had a wife. I had a family. I had a FAMILY.

"Bas? What's going on?" the woman asked quietly, following me, the two children with her. I had a family. I had children. I had a wife!

"How long did you say we were married for?" I asked looking up at her.

"7 years. Eight this December" she replied slowly. 7 years. I had had a family for 7 years? I had had this beautiful woman as my WIFE for SEVEN YEARS?

"Why was I in France?" I asked again.

"Family" she replied, "You were visiting your brothers in Paris". Brothers. More than one.

"And how many brothers do I have?" I asked and she stared at me confused, "Two. You have 2 brothers, Romeo and Jacob. Why are you asking all this?". Two brothers. The two men that brought me to the hospital. That must have been them. But why did they leave?

* * *

Slowly the woman sat down next to me, placing the little boy on the floor, next to a pile of toys that I only noticed now, before taking my hand, "Look Bas, whatever happened, you can tell me. You know that. We trust each other. So whatever you did… whatever your brothers did… you can tell me". I stared at her hand. Left hand. Middle finger. A diamond engagement ring. And a wedding ring. Slowly I looked up at her, her eyes filled with worry and concern.

"I don't know" I whispered, "I can't remember".

"You can't remember?" she asked confused and I stood up angrily, "I can't remember a FUCKI- sorry. Children in the room. I can't remember a blasted thing. At all. I can't remember what happened in France. I can't remember you. I can't remember my own kids".

She stared at me, scared, then confused, then scared again, "…As in memory loss?".

"As in post-traumatic Amnesia. The first memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed and being told by the doctors I had gotten shot and the-".

"You got SHOT?" she asked, cutting me off and I sighed, "Four times. Across my chest. Along with burn marks and something else that sliced open my stomach. I don't know. I can't remember what happened. I don't even know your name".

* * *

She took a deep breath, calming herself before walking over and kissing me again.

"My name is Alicia Gomez. I'm 29 years old and I have been married to you for 7 years. Your daughter's name is Rosa Maria but we just call her Rosa. She is 4 years old. Your son's name is Rafael, we call him Raffy and he will be 2 years old next month. We have lived in this house for 6 years. I work as a primary school teacher. You're currently unemployed. You were born in France. I was born in Mexico. I dated your brother for about 3 months before we broke up, and then I met you and you proposed after 2 years. We got married that Christmas" she said pulling back. I just stared at her blankly.

"I… I don't… I still can't… I can't remember" I stammered and she took my hand, leading me over to one of the bookshelves in the room, pulling out a folder.

She put it down on the table and flicked open the first page. Alicia and I were standing in front of the Eifel Tower. She was standing on a low wall behind me, her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder. And we were both smiling, looking like the happiest people in the world.

"That's was our first date" she said softly before turning the next page. And there we were again. Alicia and I. Me in a black suit. Her in a white ball gown.

"Our wedding day" I murmured and she nodded, "December 24th. Christmas eve".

Slowly I reached up, turning the next page to see me yet again, on my own this time. I looked both terrified and overjoyed at the same time. Next to me Alicia laughed softly, "That was your reaction when you found out I was pregnant with Rosa".

* * *

And so it continued like that for at least two hours, going through all the pictures, Alicia pointing them out and explaining when they were from. The day we moved into this house. Rosa's first birthday. Raffy only a week old. So many pictures. So many memories. So many things I couldn't remember.

* * *

I was amazed at how calm Alicia managed to stay through all of it. Knowing that her husband had forgotten her. Had forgotten their children. Had forgotten even his own name until he found an ID. But i guess that's what couples did. What married people did. She supported me, encouraged me. She was my rock. And considering everything that had happened, she was the thing I needed most right now. A wife. Kids. A loving family.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

"I got a job" I said slowly, placing the dinner plates on the table.

Alicia looked up surprised, "Oh?".

"…At the hospital" I said and she smiled, "You always did like helping people".

"Did i?" I wondered idly, "Well its not permanent or anything. Just volunteer work. Gives me something to do until I sort my head out".

"Makes sense" she said nodding, "When do you start?".

"Tomorrow… 6am… Tomorrow morning" I replied and she looked up again, "Could you drop of Rosa to playschool on the way?". Rosa. My daughter. Still felt strange to say it.

"Sure" I replied smiling slightly. I wasn't doing anything bad. Just dropping off a kid to playschool. My kid. I was bringing my daughter to playschool… Now that, I thought I'd never say.

* * *

"Ah, . Cómo me alegro de verte!" a woman said, bustling up to me. She looked like somebodies grandmother, small, round, grey curly hair. I half expected her to pull out some knitting needles from her cardigan. I'm guessing she was in charge of the playschool then.

* * *

(Ah, . How nice to see you!)

* * *

"Mi, mi, mi, ha sido un tiempo" she said and I nodded in agreement, "Tiene no es así". Even though I had no idea what she what she was on about.

* * *

(My, my, my, it has been a while) (It has, hasn't it)

* * *

"Y la pequeña Rosa María. Vaya, ¿no es adulto?" she continued, bending down to look at Rosa, who had once again, decided to clutch onto my leg.

* * *

(And little Rosa Maria. My, haven't you grown?)

* * *

"¿Está bien si mi mujer la recoge en torno a 15:00?" I asked, choosing my words carefully. The woman nodded, smiling up at me, "Por supuesto . Lo mismo de siempre".

* * *

(Is it ok if my wife picks her up around 3pm?) (Of course . Same as always)

* * *

I bent down next to Rosa, and she pulled me into a hug. Cute. "You be good ok?" I whispered and she nodded, sucking her thumb again. "Right… well I'll see you later then" I said slowly, standing back up, nodding in thanks to the old lady before making my way back to the car. The Mercedes-Bien. I couldn't ride the motorbike with a four year old could i? So I took one of the cars. And now, I had work.

* * *

"Estoy aquí para el-". "El trabajo voluntario. Lo sé. Yo fui el que te dijo. Toma asiento. Alguien estará con usted en breve" the receptionist finished, cutting me off. I sighed and walked over to the corner, sitting down.

* * *

(I'm here for the-) (Volunteer work. I know. I was the one who told you. Take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly)

* * *

A few minutes later, a doctor appeared. Or someone who I think was a doctor.

"Mr. Gomez " he said and I nodded, standing up.

"Your on time" he said bluntly and I looked around, "Its 6am. That's the time I was told to be here at. So… I'm here".

He smirked, "Yea. But we didn't expect you to be. We've been through a grand total of 19 volunteer workers in the past 3 weeks. Not one of them, turned up on time".

"Kind of defeats the point in getting a job" I said and he laughed, "Yes. It does. So thank you for being on time. I'm Dr. John Martinez".

"Sebatian Gomez" I replied, "Your English is very good".

"So is yours" he replied, "My fathers Mexican, mothers British".

"100% French. But I grew up with English as well" I lied. Well, who knows? It might be a lie. It might not be. I didn't know.

"So have you got any medical experience?" Martinez asked and I shook my head, "I was always the patient. Never the doctor".

"You've been in hospitals then?" he asked and I smirked, "You could say that".

* * *

"Ok, I don't mean to go all cliché here" I called, closing the front door behind me, "but Honey I'm Home". A few seconds later Alicia emerged from the kitchen laughing, "No, not all cliché".

I grinned, raising my hands in defeat, "I did warn you".

"Daddy!" Rosa yelled, running past her mother and over to me. I bent down and she pulled me into another hug, "I missed you".

"I missed you too" I replied smiling, "Have a good day?".

She pouted, "I fell".

"You fell?" I gasped, pretending to be shocked. She nodded, lifting her dress up to reveal a small graze on her knee.

I smirked, "Will it kill you?".

She thought for a minute, "…Maybe".

"MAYBE?" I asked amazed, "Would you survive if you got ice-cream?".

She grinned, revealing, perfectly white, straight baby teeth, "Ice-cream?".

"Only if you survive with your leg" I replied and she thought again, "…..I'll survive". I heard laughing and stood back up, turning to face Alicia, "What?".

She smiled, "It just… Your acting more like yourself". More like myself? Offering ice-cream to my daughter. More like myself. Hmmm.

* * *

"How was school?" I asked later that night and she looked up, "Same as usual. How was the hospital?".

"…Good. I got puked on by a kid who had too much candy" I replied and she laughed, "And you call that good?".

"Hey, I didn't have to clean it up. And it was pretty horrific" I replied grinning.

"Yea I suppose that is good considering what could have happened" she said yawning, "I'll put Raffy to bed".

"I'll sort out Rosa" I said, standing up and she smiled, "You always did".

* * *

"Come on, time for bed" I announced, once I had finally found Rosa. She was playing in her room, a huge, giant, pink, bedroom.

"Awww. Two more minutes?" she asked but I shook my head.

"5 more minutes?" she asked again, "11 more minutes?".

"Time to sleep Rosa" I replied smiling, picking her up. She laughed as I turned her upside-down.

"Are you going to go the sleep?" I asked and she grinned, "NEVER". I smirked, turning her right side up, tickling her, "What about now?".

"Nope" she replied giggling and I sighed, "No ice-cream for a week".

"For a WEEK?" she exclaimed pouting, "But that's forever!".

"Go to bed now and you can have some tomorrow" I shot back and she sighed, crossing her arms, "Fine. But you promised".

"Yes, I did. I promise you can have ice-cream tomorrow. Now come on, lights out" I replied, tucking her into bed. She was asleep within minutes. Smiling, I turned off the light, leaving on the dim lamp next to her bed, before quietly closing the door.

"She asleep?" Alicia asked passing me and I nodded, "Knocked out. Raffy?".

"Sound asleep. Id give him an hour before he starts crying" she replied grinning as she turned to me, "And YOU'RE the one getting up".

* * *

A green flash… Gold armour… Guns… Bullets… Bombs… Shouting…. Red Hair… Pale skin… Dangerous green eyes… Four bullet holes… Screaming… Blood… So, so much blood…

* * *

"Bas… SEBASTIAN" someone yelled shaking me awake and I shot up alarmed. Blood… there was so much blood. Gasping for breath, I turned to a scared looking Alicia. Alicia. My wife. I was at home. I was ok.

"Calm down, everything's alright" she said gently, softly rubbing my back. I was ok. I was alright. Everything was fine. Just relax. Come on man, snap out of it.

When my shaking finally ceased, I turned to Alicia, "What happened?".

She stared at me, "I was hoping you could answer that. All I know is you started… choking… shaking… fighting…". Fighting? I could fight?

"It was just a bad dream" I mumbled, slowly sitting up, shaking my head to clear the thoughts, "I'll go check on Raffy".

She silently watched me leave, but I could tell this matter wasn't over. And that it wouldn't be until I explained what the… dream… was about. But was it a dream, or was it memories?


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The days passed quickly after that, then a week, then two, and then before I knew it, a whole year was up. I did volunteer work from 6am-8am, Medical school from 8am-2pm, then volunteer work again from 2pm-6pm. Then I'd pick up Rosa from playschool on my way home. Same thing every day. But It was nice. To have a routine. To have something that was defiantly going to happen every day. It offered stability while my head was a mess. But over time, all those worries disappeared, and my life went back to normal.

* * *

I was well respected at the hospital, the fact I was 100% on time, and always had a grin for everyone had gotten people to like me, and in such a small hospital, I now knew everyone and we all got on. So work was great.

Then at college, well, I was surprised I wasn't the oldest one in training. The course was 2 years. Then I'd be a fully trained doctor, but just in this part of Mexico. And they were a couple of nice guys in my class. So college was pretty good as well.

And at home things were just as brilliant. Alicia was smart, beautiful, and knew how to get around. Rosa was adorable, always smirking that quirky little smile, which gave you the impression she was planning something evil. But she was obedient, well-mannered, and polite. And then little Rafael, well he was now two years old, and unlike his sister, he was as cheeky as they came, hiding when it was bed time, refusing to go for his bath, and somehow always getting dirty. He was adventurous, and spent every second he could outside in the huge garden, and often came back with cut knee's, grazed hands, and a huge smile plastered on his face. And then there was Alicia's new child, our new child. Born only four months ago. A girl. We called her Andrea. And just like her big brother, she had my eyes and her mothers hair. Little Andrea Gomez. So, as for home, things were pretty awesome. Asides for the nightmares.

* * *

"Hey Dr.G, hay un montón de gente extraña preguntando por ti" a nurse said passing me.

* * *

(Hey Dr.G, there's a bunch of strange people asking for you)

* * *

"Le dan un nombre?" i asked and she shook her head, "Nada. Sólo dijo que era muy importante".

* * *

(Did they give a name?) (Nothing. Just said it was very important)

* * *

"Importante? Recepción?" I asked and she nodded before disappearing around the corner.

* * *

(Important? Reception?)

* * *

Confused, I muttered a quick "Give me a minute" to the doctor I was talking to before slowly walking back to the reception area. There was a pregnant woman, a young child with a bleeding nose, and then… a bunch of strange people. Three men and one woman, one with sunglasses, one looking very awkward and uneasy, one with a… a shield? Right… And then the woman who was looking very calm and relaxed yet focused. This HAD to be the people the nurse was talking about. I hesitated for a minute, there was something… familiar about these people yet I couldn't quiet place it. But before I could take another step forward, or backwards, the guy with the sunglasses sharply something. Slowly he reached up, removing the glasses, why was he even wearing them inside?, revealing chocolate brown eyes. So familiar, yet so… far away. He stared at me for a split second before muttering something, and literally running towards me, pulling me into a hug.

"Jeasus man, where have you been?" he asked. Who the fuck was this guy?

"…I'm sorry but who are you?" I asked and he pulled away confused, "Clint? Its me".

I stared at him blankly so he tried again, "Tony Stark".

* * *

I remained confused. Who was this dude?

He stared at me amazed, "Tony Stark… Iron Man? …Oh for the love of God, do I have to spell it out for you? Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. There, I said it, happy?".

I felt like those words should mean something to me… yet they didn't…

"I'm sorry , but I think you've gotten the wrong guy" I said, shaking my head.

He slowly poked me, "Ok. Your real. So why don't you know me?". I remained silent, staring at him confused. He turned back to the others who were staring at us. He looked back to me, then them again, then back to me, before the others slowly walked up to us.

"He's…." trailed off.

"Clint?" the woman asked. I stared at him blankly.

"That is him right?" the guy with the shield whispered and she nodded, "Positive".

turned back to me, "Clint Barton?".

"…If it's a paitent your looking for I can try and help" I said shrugging. They looked at each other uneasily before the smallest man, the one who looked awkward stepped forward, holding out his hand, "Dr. Bruce Banner. Nice to meet you". Finally, a normal guy.

"Sebastian Gomez" I replied grinning as I shook his hand, "Though I'm not much of a doctor".

"Dr.G, los informes están de vuelt" someone said and I turned to find a nurse standing a few feet away, holding up a clipboard.

"Usted los ha conseguido ya? Bueno. No es genial. Dame un Segundo" I replied and she smiled, waiting.

* * *

(Dr.G, the reports back) (You've gotten them already? Good. No, that's great. Give me 2 secs)

* * *

"Would you please excuse me for a minute?" I asked the others. Only nodded, the others seemed to be in shock. I quickly walked over to the nurse and began checking the different papers, but I could still hear the others.

"Did he just speak Spanish?" asked and the woman nodded, "He learnt it a few years ago"

"And they call him Doctor G? You don't get nicknames in places like these unless... Well... Unless your pretty awesome" continued.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" the woman asked.

"Post-Traumatic Amnesia? Memory loss?" suggested. How the hell had he-? You know what, I didn't even want to know.

* * *

Pointing out a few things on the report, I muttered a quick "Gracius" to the nurse before walking back to the four strangers.

"Your looking for a patient I guess?" I asked.

"Ah, yea... Clint Barton" the woman said slowly, "suffers from memory loss. Went missing about two years ago".

"I'm sorry but did you say two years ago? We don't keep patients that long I'm afraid" I replied, trying my hardest not to laugh. But I still ended up grinning.

"What about you? How long have you been here for?" she asked.

"I don't really see how that's reveallent to the fa-" I started but she cut me off.

"Please? For me? I am really curious" she said, batting her eyelids.

Ah well, what the fuck do iv to lose? "Uh... Ah... About a year. Yea, it'll be 14 months next week" I replied.

She shot a look at the others.

"Would you mind if we talked in private for a minute? Doctor to Doctor, I mean" asked.

"Ah... Yea, sure, I guess" I said confused, as I followed him down the hall.

* * *

"Now I don't mean to pry, or be rude or anything. And I understand if this is too personal a question, but... What exactly, did you do before you came here?" he asked quietly.

I tensed up, I couldn't help it. He knew something. He knew something big, about me, and now he was straying too close to the edge.

He seemed to search my face for something, "you don't know do you? You don't know because you forgot. Up until 14 months ago you don't remember a thing".

"Your right... That is too personal a question" I said angrily, walking past him and down the corridor.

"Clinton Francis Barton" he called after me, "that's your real name, your friends call you Clint. Your American, born in Waverly, Iowa. Your 34 years old, and your birthday is January 7th . Your stubborn, rebellious but loyal, and put up a hell of a fight. You're the worlds best marksmen and your part of the same superhero group as I am, and the others back there. We're the Earth's Mightiest Hero's and work with a secret government organisation know as SHIELD. In other words, we're the Avengers".

* * *

I stopped suddenly. The nightmares… The flash of a shield, that mans shield... Red hair, the womans red hair... And a suit, a suit with the same voice as ... It was… them… They weren't nightmares… The were memories.

I glanced over my shoulder, "Have a nice day ".

I heard him go back to the others, "well it's him all right... At least part of him...".

"Part of him?" the man with shield asked.

sighed, "Can't remember a thing".

"How do you know it's him then?" asked.

The doctor sighed again, "I know the symptoms for remembering if you have suffered memory loss... He just displayed all signs with I mentioned the Avengers. It's Barton. We just got to convince him that".


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Sighing, I pushed open the hospital doors. 2pm. Done with college. And starting volunteer work for the second time. Another 4 hours and I would be with the family again. It was strange, how casually I was saying that now. But I had a family. THEY were my family. And now they were my life.

* * *

"You got a call on line 3" Dr. Greenway told me as I passed. Alexander Greenway was one of the few people in the hospital who spoke perfect English and we often chatted during our breaks or when we weren't busy. He was good fun, and we had hit off instantly.

"Line 3?" I asked and he nodded, smirking, "I believe it is Ms. Gomez. Very urgent".

"That's MRS. Gomez to you buddy" I teased and he laughed before going out of sight. I shook my head, laughing slightly, surprised when someone next to me asked, "What's so funny?".

* * *

I almost jumped a foot in the air, spinning around to find sunglasses behind me, "Nothing Mr. Stark. Don't worry".

"Mr. Stark? Honestly Clint? That's… that's just plain sad. You never called me Mr this or Mr that. It was always Tony, or if you were feeling lucky, you'd call me a jerk. Which I am. But NEVER Mr. Stark" he replied, falling into step with me.

I sighed, "I'm sorry Mr. Stark, but my name is not Clint, nor was it ever even slightly like that if I recall correctly".

"But you don't recall correctly do you Clint? Cause you got amnesia" he shot back, removing the sunglasses, "Look me straight in the eye, and tell me you remember shit that happened before 14 months ago".

I glanced up at him, "Fine. I hit my head pretty hard. Forgot stuff. But that doesn't mean I'm part of this… Superhero group… as Dr. Banner so kindly said I was".

"And there we are, ladies and gentlemen, the cat is out of the bag" he said dramatically and I couldn't help but smirk slightly. This guy sure knew how to cheer you up.

"So come on, when do you get off shift?" he asked and I looked up confused, "Why?".

"Clint. Sebastian. I don't care what name you have. But before this whole mess started, you and I, we were inseparable. And I don't want that to change. No matter how Mexican you've turned" he replied quietly and I felt a pang of sorrow for the guy. He just wanted his best friend back, and was 100% certain that I was that guy. And I may have been, who knows? But I couldn't remember him. And you couldn't be friends with a stranger.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark, but I have my wife on the phone for me and I'm afraid its very important" I said calmly and he gave a low whistle, glancing over his shoulder, "Hey Steve, Bartons got a wife".

I looked up just as the man with the shield, Steve, casually walked past us, smirking slightly, "Congratulations". And man was that guy tall… and muscularly… and very I-can-break-your-neck-with-one-finger-looking.

"…Thanks" I replied slowly and Mr. Stark laughed, "Don't worry. Capcicle couldn't hurt a fly. Aliens on the other hand… Well, not to worry, I'll let you return to your… wife. And call me Tony, please, its freaky any other way". And with that, he slipped back on the sunglasses, even though he was still inside, and casually strode away.

* * *

Slowly, I walked up to the main desk, nodding a thanks to the receptionist as she handed me the phone.

"Bas?". And THERE, was my wife's sweet voice.

"Hey Alicia" I replied, grinning despite myself as I leant back against the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just about make out Steve sitting in one of the waiting chairs, staring at me intently. Strange.

"Oh, ok, its you, good. Something's… something's happened…" she trailed off and I immediately stood up, trying to ignore the worry at the pit of my stomach, "What happened?".

"There's… been an accident. Car crash" she said, her voice breaking. I was already taking off my name tag and coat, "Where are you?".

"Stransbin roundabout. About 21 or 22 miles away… I didn't… I couldn't… Andrea… Raffy…" she stammered, and I could almost picture the tears as she cried into the phone. Oh god. Andrea? What the hell had happened?

"I'll be there in 5 minutes. Stay put" I said, before putting back the phone and running towards the main door. I was almost there when someone grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

* * *

"Bas, what's happened?" Greenway asked and I thought about running for it. But I couldn't do that to my closest friend.

"Alicia. Car crash. Andrea and Raffy" I said frantically and he froze, "What happened? Did she say anything? Are they all right?".

"I don't know Alex. She didn't say. I don't know. I just have to find them" I said, pulling out of his grip. He looked at me worriedly, "Well you're not driving. Not when your this worked up. Come on, I'll take you".

"Alex. You know how the boss is. If you ditch work one more time your screwed. Fired. Out of a job. I'll be fine" I replied firmly, thanking god I was able to still think logically.

"I don't care. Your more important. He can fuck his job if he thinks for one second tha-".

"You stay here. I'll take him" someone said cutting Alex off and we both turned to… Steve? What the fuck?

"Who the hell are you?" Alex asked, and I put a hand on his shoulder, "He's all right Alex. An… old friend… sort of…".

"You stay and work. Clin-Sebastian will ring you later" Steve said again, catching himself with my name at the last minute.

Alex stared at him for a minute before pulling me into a tight hug, "You better fucking call".


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

"Next left" I ordered and Steve turned the steering wheel obediently. He was a good guy for doing this. I had to thank him later.

"So… Alicia? That's her name?" he asked and I nodded, running my hand through my hair, "Alicia Gomez".

"And… the other two people?" he asked again.

"Andrea and Rafael Gomez" I replied and he glanced sideways at me, "As in?".

"As in my son and daughter" I replied and he looked shocked for a moment before quickly refocusing on the road. Wonder why.

"Another left" I said again… and then the first police car came into view.

* * *

The car hadn't even stopped before I jumped out, stumbling slightly, but quickly regaining my balance and running towards the nearest officer.

"Where are they?" I asked frantically and he turned to me, "Name?".

"Their my fucking wife and kids mate, just let me see them" I said, almost shouting.

"Name" he said again and I swore loudly, tossing him my ID and shoving past before he even had a chance to open it. Where were they? I easily caught sight of an ambulance… and Alicia sitting in the back with one of those thermal blankets around her shoulders. I ran over to her, trying to fight back the tears welling up, and she pulled me into a tight hug.

* * *

"What happened?" I asked as she buried her head in my shoulder, crying her heart out.

"The… T-the car… I took my eyes f-from the road… just one second… t-then it crashed into t-the roundabout… and… and" she couldn't continue.

"Shhh, its ok, everythings gonna be all right" I hussed, softly rubbing her back, "You said the kids where with you?".

"Andrea and… and Raffy" she replied shakidly.

"What happened to them?" I asked again and she broke down in a fresh wave of tears, "Raffys… Raffys in the other ambulance…".

"And Andrea?".

"They… they t-took her to the nearest… hospital… the one about 11 m-m-miles away" she replied, "T-they don't know if… if… if she'll make it".

* * *

That was too much to handle. And the tears overflowed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I buried my face in Alicia's hair, trying my hardest to stop crying. It didn't work. And the tears continued to stream down my face. But what father in their right mind could remain calm when they knew their baby girl could die? Andrea was only four months old. She didn't deserve to die. She was too young. She was NOT going to be taken away from us. Not when we only just got her. And so Alicia and I remained like this, our tears mingling together as we sat in the back of an ambulance, wishing and hoping and praying that our little angle would pull through.

* * *

"I'm going to find Raffy" I said quietly, pulling away from Alicia. She sniffled, nodding silently and I slowly stood up. I had officially cried my heart out. I had no more tears to give. I had run dry. It was only then I realised how late it had gotten. We must have sat there for at least three hours. And I thanked god that the doctors and police stayed around. Giving Alicia a gentle kiss on her forehead, I slowly began walking over to the other ambulance, oblivious to my surroundings. I had to know that Raffy was ok. That's all that mattered.

"Mr. Gomez?" A doctor asked and I nodded mutely. He sighed, and looked over his shoulder, "Rafael is fine. A few scratches and a broken arm, but he'll survive. Your wife, Alicia Gomez I presume, has 2 broken ribs, a third one cracked, and a head wound. She has a concussion so keep a close eye. But otherwise she's also ok".

"... And Andrea?" I asked quietly and the doctor sighed again, "it's too early to tell I'm afraid. She's still in a critical condition. We'll ring with an update". I nodded slowly, "Rafael, can I... See him?".

"Of course. He's able to go home now" the doctor said smiling, "he got off pretty easy under the circumstances".

I smiled back at him weakly before continuing to the ambulance. When Raffy saw me, his eyes immediately lit up and a huge grin spread over his face.

* * *

"DADDY" he screamed, running towards me. I easily caught him, picking him up, being careful of the sling around his arm.

I grinned at him, "How's my little solider today?".

"Mummy had an accident" he replied frowning, though with his current speaking abilities, it came out like "Vummy hadden a dent".

"I know son, trust me I know, but you and mummy are ok" I said gently, brushing back his blond hair from his face.

"...Andrea was cryin" he mumbled and I nodded, quickly swallowing back more tears. I was expected to be the strong one. And I was not going to break down again in front of my son.

"Andrea's going to be fine. She's a Gomez ain't she. And we're fighters aren't we?" I asked, tickling him, "Aren't we?".

He laughed, trying to push me away, but the fact that I was holding him, made that rather difficult, "ok ok. I gip up".

I smirked, and he returned the favour. He had my smirk as well as my eyes, a mischievous, quirky little grin that made you think we were up to something.

"I was scared Daddy" he said, wrapping his hands around my neck protectively.

I sighed, pulling him closer, "I was scared too Raf, I was scared too".

* * *

"Did he just call him Daddy?" I heard someone ask and I looked up to find Steve and Tony slowly walking my way.

Steve nodded, "that's his son. He's got a daughter as well".

"Why don't you go over to mommy" I whispered to Raffy putting him down. He nodded and gave me one last hug before running off. I smiled slightly, watching as he reached Alicia and showed off his new cast before turning back to the two men as they reached me.

"Cute kid. Yours?" Tony asked and I nodded.

"What's his name?" He asked again.

"Rafael Gomez" I replied and he smirked, "got your eyes".

"I know" I replied, smiling slightly.

It was only then Steve noticed, "What about your daughter?".

I looked away, willing myself not to cry again, "Andrea? She's..." I silently cursed as my voice broke, "They don't know if she'll survive or not".

"God, Oh jeez, hey, man, we're sorry" Tony stammered and I forced a weak smile, "It's ok. We have to prepare if worst comes to worst anyway".

"... How old is she?" Steve asked quietly and laughed softly, "5 months next week".

"Wow. She's young. What about Rafael? How olds he?" Tony asked.

"2 years. Birthday was only three or four months ago" I replied, putting my hands in my pockets.

"So you've got a 5 month old, and a 2 year old" Stark said slowly.

"And a 4 year old" I added and they both looked up surprised, "you've got more kids?".

"Three kids. Two daughters. One son. Andrea's the youngest, then Rafael, and then Rosa Maria. She's 4. Spitting image of her brother" I explained.

"Where's she now?" Steve asked and I glanced down at my phone, "she'll be finished play school in an hour".

"So you've got three kids... And a wife" Steve said, almost clarifying it. I nodded, looking over at her. She was smiling at Raffy, who was trying to cheer her up. Even though he was a cheeky little thing, he could be good when he wanted to be.

* * *

"Bruce'll want an update" Steve said suddenly, turning to Tony who nodded, taking out a... Phone? A very fancy phone, and walking away with it already at his ear.

"Thanks... For the ride... And for sticking around" I said awkwardly, turning back to Steve.

He just smiled and waved it off, "I had nothing else to do. And It saved your friend from loosing his job".

"And me from crashing in my rush to get over here" I added and he nodded thoughtfully, "true. You must ring that doctor by the way". Alex, yes, of course. He would murder me if I didn't update him. And considering he was a doctor, he knew the chemicals that could do that, without leaving any trace. So murdering me was quiet easy for him really.

"I'll... Most likely see you tomorrow" Steve said slowly, "but for now, I have to give Stark a lift. So... See you I guess".

"Later" I muttered, "and thanks, again, for... Everything". He smiled briefly before turning and walking back to the car, Tony already in the front seat. Then they were gone.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Turning back to the ambulance, I walked back to Alicia and Raffy,

"Doc says we're allowed to go home".

She nodded, "I'll... Get a taxi or something. You get Rosa".

"Alicia. I'm not leaving you again. I'll call Alex. He wants an update anyway" I said firmly and she smiled slightly, "Alex. You were lucky to have found him".

"Yea. I was" I mused, quickly dialling his number.

"Bas? WHAT HAPPENED?" He shouted, picking up after the first ring. I winced at the loudness of his voice.

"Alicia's ok, Raffys got a broken arm, and Andrea is in hospital" I replied and he cursed, "Fuck sake. You need a lift?".

"... That would be great actually, thanks mate" I replied sighing and he laughed, "just promise the next time I end up in hospital, you'll bring me some decent food".

"Course" I replied grinning, "Who else would be able to smuggle it in?".

* * *

An hour later, we were home. Alicia, Raffy, and Rosa all safe in bed, Andrea still in hospital, and Alex and I aimlessly wandering around the house, waiting for the doctor to ring with an update.

*Beep beep... Beep beep*.

Our heads snapped to the phone on the table. I stared at it for a split second beiges grabbing it and answering.

* * *

"Mr. Gomez?" Someone asked. It was the same doctor as before.

"Yea?" I asked breathlessly.

"I am calling with an update of your daughters condition" he said and I motioned for Alex to come over.

"Yea, what's happened?" I asked.

"... We think she'll pull through" he said and I sighed in relief, collapsing into a chair.

"Nothing is certain yet. But your allowed to come in and see her if you like" he continued, "visiting hours are from 8am to 8pm every day".

"Right. Yes. Thank you" I said grinning, "is that all? Right. Yes. Ok. Yes goodbye".

Putting down the phone I looked up at an impatient Alex.

"Well?" He asked and I gave an abrupt laugh, "Shea going to be ok".

* * *

"How is she?". I spun around startled, to face the red head.

"Who?" I asked, picking back up the papers I had dropped.

"Your daughter. Andrea isn't it?" She asked and I sighed, "so you know about that. Right. Yea, she's... Pulling through". I had gone to see her yesterday with Alicia. And things were looking just that much brighter.

"That's good. And the rest of the family?" She asked again.

"Their... Doing ok" I replied slowly and she sighed, "what about you? How are you today?".

I looked at her surprised. She was asking ME about how OK I was? That had never happened before.

* * *

"Honestly? I'm a little creeped out your still here" I replied, picking up the last sheet as I began to walk down the hall. She followed me, falling into step easily.

"Do you want to know why I'm still here?" She asked, "its because once upon a time, you were a very good friend of mine. One that disappeared 13 and half months ago when Clint Barton went off the radar".

"I'm sorry for your loss" i muttered and she pushed me against the wall, her face an inch from mine. And man, was she scary looking.

"As much as I hated the bastard sometimes, I miss him. And I plan on doing everything I possible can, on getting you back" she hissed.

"Come on Natasha, let him go" Tony said, tapping her on the shoulder as he walked by. Natasha. That was her name.

"Your here too?" I asked him amazed.

"We're all here Clint. You just don't see us" he replied casually as we began to wall again.

* * *

"So your really convinced I'm this... Clint Barton guy huh?" I asked quietly.

"Yep" Tony replied.

"Dr. Banner... said so-".

"Bruce" Tony said, cutting me off.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Bruce. That's what you called him. Never , never doctor, just Bruce. Or big guy when he got angry" he replied.

"When he got angry-? What's that meant to mean?".

"You'll see. Now carry on" he replied.

"Ok... Dr. Ban- Bruce" I corrected, "Bruce said something about a bunch of superheroes".

"The Avengers" Natasha said nodding.

"Said ye guys were in it?".

"Yep. So were you" she replied and I laughed, "Well sorry to disappoint ye guys, but I haven't turned invisible or shot lasers out if eyes recently so I think you got your facts wrong".

"You had a bow" she said.

"A bow?".

"Yea. Bow and arrow. Ever hear of Hawkeye?".

"...Yea" I replied slowly.

"Well guess what? That's you" Tony finished and I stopped, "Ok now i know your messing with me".

* * *

"You are Clint Barton, whether you like it or not" Natasha said firmly, "You're the worlds best marksmen, a trained assassin, and a spy working for a shadowy agent government know as SHIELD. You ca-".

"A spy?" I asked, cutting her off.

She glared at me, "And you don't believe me. Figures. The-".

"No, no, no" I interrupted again, "Its not that I don't believe you. But If I was a spy, id be going undercover all the time wouldn't i? With secret identities".

"Yea" she said slowly.

"And the only way to tell if I am Clint Barton for certain, is by a DNA check, right?" I asked again and she nodded, "Where are you going with this?".

I smirked, "If I was a new person every other day, then wouldn't my DNA records have to change? Which is impossible. And since that is impossible, the next best thing would be to delete all traces of my original DNA correct? To get rid of all traces. Which would mean there is no possible way, you have one Clint Barton's DNA sample".


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

"… He's right" Tony admitted and Natasha glared at him before turning back to me, "Ok, so there's no way we could by your DNA. But there's other, much simpler, easy ways of telling its you".

"Which is?" I asked grinning.

"… By your scars" she said quietly and I froze. Scars. Upper back. Shoulders. Lower stomach. Chest. All littered with different white and red marks. Scars. From my previous battles. From my previous fights. From my previous life. She knew they were there. She knew all of them. Which would have meant I was with her when they happened. Or… I was fighting with them. With the Avengers. If I really was Hawkeye. If I really was a superhero. Then we would have fought battles together. We would have fought side by side. Brothers in arms. Or, sister, in this case. They were battle scars. And if she knew they were there, so did Tony. And Bruce. And Steve. Everyone. It was only a matter of finding them.

* * *

"You know don't you?" Tony whispered, "You know what Nat's talking about. You've seen them".

I shook my head angrily, pushing past, "So Iv got a few scars here and there. So what? That doesn't make me a hero".

"No, but what you were doing at the time that gave you them, then you were a hero" he shot back, charging after me, "And just because someone's fucked with your mind, doesn't mean your less the man now than you were back then". I stopped sharply.

* * *

Green eyes… A flash… Gold armour… Green cloak… Black suit… Gold helmet… Dangerous… A name… Such a familiar name… Yet out of reach… Bad… Bad guy… Eyes… Evil… Dark green… Words… So many words… All mixed up… All from the same man… No… Not a man… A… A… A god… A god in green… A name… Such a familiar name…

* * *

"Loki" I mumbled.

* * *

"What?" Tony asked, snapping his head to me.

I looked up at him confused, trying to remember the flashback. A name. I knew the name.

"Loki" I said, louder this time and he froze. Slowly, I felt Natasha walk up from behind us, until she was standing in front of me. Then gently, ever so gently, she reached up, and poked my shoulder. I automatically flinched. I couldn't help it. The burn marks were still there. It was an automatic reaction now.

"You did that the last time I touched your shoulder too" she said softly, "2nd degree burning. Did it scar?".

"Very much" I replied smirking and she sighed, "Stomach too?".

I nodded, "How did that happen by the way? Because for the life of me, I somehow cannot remember. Odd isn't it?".

She laughed, "You had a bit of a run in with an angry tank. Shirt got caught in the metal. That's all you told me".

"Well I apologise for not being able to tell more" I relied grinning.

* * *

"Wo, wo, wo. Back it up a bit Legolas" Tony said suddenly, "Loki. You said Loki. You remember him?".

I frowned, "Not… a person as such… But a name… Loki Laufeyson. Green eyes. Black clothes. Gold armour. And a helmet with… horns? Why on earth is he wearing horns?" I asked and he smirked, "Iv been asking myself the same thing for years. But what else do you know?".

"…He's a… God isn't he? Half god… half Frost Giant" I said slowly, trying to remember the flashbacks. And the nightmares. But those dreams were not something I liked to thinks about.

Natasha nodded, "He's the bad guy. Or was the bad guy. He's in prison now".

"So you remember Rudolf… but not us?" Tony asked confused and I rubbed my eyes tiredly, leaning back against the wall, "It… It doesn't work that way… Its not… its doesn't…" I trailed off, frustrated, "Its like certain… words… trigger it. Certain words for certain memories. Its messed up".

"So what set it off there?" Natasha asked and I laughed softly, glancing up at Tony, "Your theory on how my mind got fucked up".

* * *

"Oh god. THAT? Jeez mate, I'm so sorry. Loki fucked up your mind. Course he did. Nearly 2 years ago. With the invasion of Manhattan-" he stammered, being cut off sharply when Natasha hit him over the back of his head, "Shut up Stark, your only going to fuck this up even more".

"So only words. But The Avengers didn't trigger it?" she asked turning back to me. I shifted uneasily. Unforcently, she caught it.

"You remember something don't you? Something your keeping from us?" she asked and Tony immediately looked back up at me.

"…Sort of" I mumbled, "I don't… remember ye… not exactly… not properly or anything…".

"Not properly? Then what DO you remember?" she asked again and I sighed, "I have these… nightmares… you could call them… I don't know what they are… Memories maybe… just random… pieces… of different memories".

"Flashbacks. Panic attacks. And dreams" Tony said quietly, smiling softly.

"So… YOU know what he meens?" Natasha asked him and he nodded, "I have the same problem. Afghanistan".

"Afghanistan" she agreed nodding.

"Ah guys... What exactly happened in Afghanistan?" I asked confused and Tony laughed, "Nothing you need to worry about. Now continue your story".

"…Right… Well, take Steve's shield for instance… I remember that, but I don't remember Steve… I know you have a suit. I remember your voice from it. But I can't remember you" I explained and Natasha sighed, "Selective memories. Great. Anything else?".

"A hammer. For some strange, deformed, messed up reason. I remember a hammer" I replied and she smirked, "Thor".

"Who?" I asked and she shrugged, "He's part of the Avengers. Also a god. Loki's his… adoptive… brother. Currently on Asgard". Asgard. Home of gods. Of course he was at home.

* * *

"Bits of information" Stark said thoughtfully and we both turned to him.

"What are you planning?" Natasha asked and he looked up at her, then to me, "You remember only certain parts correct?".

"Yea" I replied slowly.

"And all the parts you remember are our weapons" he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face, "So I'm just wondering what would happen if we gave you yours".

"His bow" Natasha muttered, "you know what Stark? That might actually work".


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

"Come on, your done" Tony said suddenly, and I glanced done at my watch.

"Tony. I got another hour on the clock" I told him sighing and he pouted. Not frowned, not something an adult did. He actually POUTED. Like a KID. Something that Rosa did.

"Aw come on, you've been here for HOURS" he whined and I laughed, "That's kind of the point. I'm here to work".

"You don't even get paid for it" he complained.

"That's my choice. And besides, nobody said you had to stay here" I pointed out, looking up from the reports I was reading, "In fact, everyone's still here. You, Natasha, Steve, Bruce. And you seem to never leave".

"And you know damn well why" he shot back, "Because Mr. Clint Barton, decided to disappear while on a mission from Fury".

* * *

Mission… Fury… SHIELD… The man… An old building… Seemingly abandoned… Gun shots… Strange man… Bow… Alone… Four bullets… Screaming… Shouting… Blackness…

* * *

"I didn't disappear" I muttered and he looked up at me surprised, "What?".

"I didn't disappear" I repeated, louder this time.

"… You remember?" he asked confused and I nodded slowly, "You said a mission from Fury… Natasha and I were sent in… It was an abandoned building…".

He nodded, "That's the one".

"… What does Natasha think happened?" I asked and he smiled weakly, "All Nat knows is you said you were sorry for everything, and there was a guy trying to kill you. When she got to your position, there was a dead man with an arrow through his heart, and you were gone. You just disappeared".

I shook my head angrily, "No. That's not… that's not what happened".

* * *

"… So you didn't run off and start a new life like everyone thinks?" he asked and I sighed frustrated, "No. No way. I was there… Then yea, there was this guy… But he shot me and then everythi-".

"WO, WO, WO, Back up a bit there Katniss" Tony said cutting me off, "You were SHOT?".

I nodded, wincing at the memory, "Four times".

"FOUR TIMES?" he yelled, getting strange looks from the people around us.

"Yea. Four times. Across my chest. Still got the scars. I blacked out. Blood loss. The next thing t I know, I wake up in a French hospital, and I cant remember a thing".

"But you were SHOT?" he asked again, staring at me through the dark sunglasses, "You do realise this changes everything right?".

"How?".

"Well, first of all, you were shot. Four times. Across the chest. Which left four scars. Secondly, you didn't run away, you didn't disobey orders, and you didn't deliberately escape your old life. And thirdly, well, you were kind of kidnapped" he explained.

"No" I said.

"What?".

"No. I know your going to ask. And the answer is no. I don't know who it was. I never saw his face" I repeated and he sighed, "You do realise this whole situation has suddenly gotten severely fucked up right?".

"I was just told I'm part of a superhero group, I was kidnapped, and I used to be a spy. I think I'm slightly more fucked up then you" I replied smirking and he grinned, looking up at the time, "Well would you look at that, you're finished work. Now come on, Nat's set up some… super-spy archery kind-of- thing is some deserted part of town".

"Super-spy archery kind-of-thing?" I asked as he dragged me towards the door.

He laughed, "Hey, it's the only thing you can call it. You are the famous Hawkeye after all".

* * *

"You do realise you have to tell her right?" Tony whispered to me, getting out of the car.

I sighed, shutting the passengers door and following him, "Yea, I know. And the others".

"I can tell the others. You just tell Nat" he replied and I smirked, "What? Scared of her or something?".

"If you remembered, you would know she can kill you with a post-it note" he replied shuddering, "So you're telling her".

"Telling me what exactly?" someone asked making us both jump and spin around to face Nat. She glanced at Stark before looking up at me, "Well?".

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, looking over at Stark for help. He just shrugged and mouthed 'Good Luck' before continuing to walk along the small, broken, foot-path.

"Clint?" Natasha asked and I sighed, my words coming out rushed, "Ok-well-i-don't-know-why-I'm-nervous-or-stuff-but -when-i-disappeared-i-didn't-actually-disappear-i- was-kind-of-shot-and-then-kidnapped-but-i-cant-rem ember-the-guys-and-Tony-doesn't-want-to-tell-you-i n-case-you-kill-him-with-a-post-it-note".

* * *

"… You were shot?" she asked quietly and I nodded.

"And kidnapped?" she asked again.

"Yep" I replied and she sighed, linking arms with me as we began to follow Tony, "This changes everything you know".

"I know" I replied shrugging half-heartedly, "But why are we here?".

She remained silent, leading me along the path before stopping in front of a tall chain link fence, about 10ft tall. She looked over at me, nodding in its direction, "Go".

"…You want me to climb it?" I asked and she nodded slightly, "I just want you at the other side".

I grinned, "Lady's first". She smirked, walking over to the fence before climbing. She dropped down the other side with ease a few minutes later and turned back to me, "Your turn".

* * *

"And you SURE you just want me to GET to that side?" I asked and she stared at me confused, "I'm not entirely sure why your phrasing it that way exactly, but yea, just get here already".

I sighed, still grinning, and stepped forward, running my hand along the fence until it connected with a slightly out of place wire. I quickly brought up my other hand and pulled at it, the metal detaching itself without a fight and a split second later, there was a gap big enough for me to fit through. I smirked, stepping through and tying the wire after me before turning to Natasha, "I thought ye spies were meant to notice everything?".

She just huffed and hit me across the back of my head before storming off.

Laughing, I jogged after her, quickly catching up, "Hey, I'm just saying, it saved me a few minutes from climbing it. And time is of the essence here am I correct?".

"Yes. It is. So shut up, and follow me" she shot back and I couldn't help grin at her. Death by Post-it notes or not, she was fun to wind up.

* * *

"Finally. Ye take FOREVER" Tony whined as we reached him in what looked like a large clearing. A courtyard, with run-down buildings surrounding us on all four sides. There was just a small arch connecting the dusty concrete to the outside world, that was it. So there was no wind here, just the burning sun shining down on us. I half expected a tumble-weed to roll by any minute.

But instead, there was me, Tony, and Natasha. And three target boards, set at different distances away.

"Catch" Tony said suddenly, and I spun around just in time to have a bow and an arrow-stocked quiver thrown at me. I quickly caught both of them, surprised at how light they were. Dropping the bag at my feet, I ran my hand over the bows sleek design. It was so… so… familiar… Yet so different. So unknown. It was like trying to know somebody you never met. Impossible yet I knew I just HAD to try.

* * *

So familiar, yet so distant


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

I looked back up at the others, frustrated and shaking my head angrily, "Not a fucking thing".

"That's the bow you had when you went off the radar" Natasha said quietly and I turned sharply to her, "Look, I get it. You're a bunch of superhero's called the Avengers. I was an Avenger. And your all trying to get me to remember shit that happened. And I believe you, all right? I believe a group of strangers are superhuman and used to be my friends. But that's just it. USED to be. I can't remember ok? I can't remember a fucking thing. You're only wasting your time".

"Clint-" Tony started softly but I cut him off, "No. Don't start. I'm not Clint Barton. I'm not Hawkeye. And I'm definitely not the worlds best marksman. I may have been. Before. But not anymore. Not now. Now I'm Sebastian Gomez, a doctor trainee who spends his time volunteering at hospitals. I have a family. A wife and kids. I have Alicia, I have Andrea, I have Raffy, and I have Rosa. And the-".

* * *

I stopped sharply, suddenly realising something. No… it couldn't be… That wasn't right… I was… wasn't i? I faintly felt the bow fall from my hand and distantly heard it land at my feet. I didn't care. I barely noticed. The same thing was going through my head over and over again.

* * *

"…Clint?" Tony asked warily, taking a step towards me.

I didn't care. All I could think of, was of… of… of…

"BARTON" Natasha snapped and I slowly looked up at them, the confusion, then concern spreading across their faces. I collapsed onto my knees, the shock literally making my legs buckle. They both rushed over, bending down next to me.

"Hey, Hey come on, what's happening?" Tony asked frantically, shaking me.

"…Rosa" I mumbled

"What?" he asked and I frowned, looking up at him, "Rosa".

"What about Rosa? Clint you have to talk to us here" Nat said and I thought again, "Rosa… She's…".

"She's your daughter Clint. Rosa Maria Gomez" Tony said gently and I gave an abrupt laugh, "No she isn't".

* * *

"Clint… Yes she is" Natasha said softly, shooting a worried look at Tony. He just shrugged and turned back to me as I laughed again, "No. She's not".

"Clint. Listen to me" Natasha said again, "I don't have a clue what's going on here. Your delusional. Rosa is your daughter. You pick her up from playschool remember?".

"But she's not my daughter" I corrected, "Its impossible".

"For fucks sake Barton, she LOOKS LIKE YOU. She has the exact same HAIR AS YOU" Natasha said frustrated, "How is she not your daughter?".

"She's four years old" I said.

"And?" Natasha asked again.

I looked up at her, "And if everything ye say is true, and I really was a superhero. Then I had a completely different life 14 months ago. 14 MONTHS AGO. So how on earth-".

"Could you have a four year old daughter" Tony finished and I nodded, looking up at him, "That rules out Alicia as well. Apparently, we've been married for 8 years now".

"Bullshit. And Raffy and Andrea?" he asked and I shrugged, "Highly unlikely".

"Wait, back up a minute. What's happening here?" Natasha asked confused and I turned to her, smirking, "I think I need to have a little chat with my ex-wife".

* * *

Slowly I closed the front door behind Rosa and I, watching her bound up the stairs to her room. Not my daughter. Sighing, I leant back again the frame, staring after her. How the hell was I meant to do this?

"Bas?" someone asked and I turned to find Alicia walk out from the kitchen, a smile on her face. Not my wife.

I remained silent and she frowned, "Is everything all right? Your late, I was starting to get worried".

"Yea… Everythings fine… Just got caught in traffic" I replied, the lie's coming easily to me. Lie's, all lie's.

"Oh, that's ok then, dinners ready in a few minutes" she said, smiling again, before disappearing back into the kitchen. So many lie's.

* * *

Slowly I straightened up, following her and getting out the plates and cups. Not your house. I could feel her gaze on my back as I laid them out, but I ignored it and tried to think about what I would say. What I would ask my fake wife. My fake kids. My fake family.

"I was thinking of going to see Andrea tomorrow" Alicia said suddenly and I nodded absentmindedly. Not my daughter. And I wouldn't be here tomorrow. I promised myself that before collecting Rosa from playschool. I would just walk out.

"And Raffy, I'll bring him along, get a doctor to check him arm as well" she continued. Not my son. "Would you mind getting him and Rosa? Dinners ready". Not my children.

I moved in a daze, wondering back out into the hall and up the stairs, down to Rosa's room, pausing in front of her door. Not my daughter. Slowly I pushed in open a small bit and looked in. She was playing with her dolls, naming them, and showing them around the doll house. Not my daughter.

* * *

I could do this. I would do this. I was about to do this. Closing Rosa's door again, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, making my way back downstairs.

"Are they coming?" Alicia asked when she saw me. I shook my head leaning against the door frame, "No".

"...Why not?" She asked confused.

Slowly I walked over to her, taking the plate out of her hand and sitting her down in a chair, "we need to talk". I internally cringed at the words. Of everything I could have used, I just HAD to pick the most used breakup sentence in the history of cliche romance movies didn't I?

She looked at me warily, "Bas? What happened?".

I swore loudly, running a hand through my hair, "Just stop pretending alright?".

"What?" She asked confused and I sighed, standing in front of her, "I have to... Ask you something... A few things actually... And you have to give me the honest answers right?".

She nodded slowly.

"Good" I said, taking a deep breath, "Are you really my wife?".

* * *

"Bas? What's going on? What sort of question is that?" She asked, half confused and half angry.

"Alicia. Answer me" I replied and she laughed, "I am answering you. I think your gone completely mad".

"Alicia. Just give me a straight answer" I shouted and she glared at me, "Don't you dare raise your voice to me Sebastian".

"Stop calling me that" I snapped.

"Stop calling you what?".

"Sebastian. Stop calling me Sebastian. Or Bas. Or Sab. It's not my real name and you fucking know it" I hissed.

"I have no idea what your on about Bas but I'll be-".

"Clint" I said, cutting her off, "My name is Clint Barton".

* * *

She stared at me shocked. Surprised. Completely taken aback. But not confused. She knew what I was talking about. She knew all along.

"Now" I said, trying to control my anger, "Are you my wife or not?".

"If you would just listen to me and I'll expl-".

"Yes or No?" I yelled angrily, cutting her off.

* * *

"... No".


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Everything happened in a daze after that. There was a ringing in my ears, and a knife violently twisting around in my heart. It was broken. My fake wife had actually broken my heart. I was a fool to have loved her.

Then I was grabbing my jacket, the black leather the only thing that registered in my mind, and then I was grabbing car key, the whole time Alicia running after me, tears streaming down her face as she tried to get me to stay. I didn't listen.

I just pushed past her and headed for the door, ignoring the upset cry's of "Daddy!". I wasn't going to look back. I wasn't going to go back. I wasn't going back to a fake family. The next thing I knew, I was in my car and pulling out onto the driveway, pushing the accelerator as fast as it could go. And I never once looked back.

* * *

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID" I yelled at myself, "Your a fucking moron Clint you know that? The whole FUCKING TIME she was playing you and you didn't even notice".

* * *

I turned a sharp right, narrowly missing a low wall, and continued along the road.

* * *

"Your a bloody idiot" I muttered angrily, "How could you have not realised that?".

* * *

I swerved against to avoid an oncoming car. I barely noticed it in the darkness. It was at least 1am and I had been driving for hours.

* * *

"Fucking woman's name might even be fake" I said laughing.

* * *

I quickly spun the wheel to get out of the way of an oncoming truck, which blared its horn angrily at me.

* * *

"In fact, she could be anyone. Anything. The kids might not even be hers".

* * *

Another sharp right.

* * *

"Then again, Andrea has to be her daughter unless she somehow faked the pregnancy and got a newborn baby".

* * *

I just about spun left in time to avoid a traffic cone.

* * *

"But what about Rosa and Raffy? Are they her kids? Are they her actual biological children?".

* * *

Another sharp turn. But this time, in wasn't so lucky.

* * *

The car swerved, the wheels spinning, and the speed I was going at, I couldn't stop it. I quickly turned the wheel, pressing down on the brakes but noting happened. It was in slow motion, as the car spun around; the headlights illuminating different objects in dark night. Time was moving so slowly. So peacefully. I didn't want it to end... But then everything sped up again and the front of the car slammed into a tree,and being the idiot I was, in my haste to escape the house, I didn't wear a seatbelt.

* * *

I was thrown forward as I put my hands over my head. It didn't do much good. I hit of the front windscreen and the force smashed the glass, the sharp pieces ripping open my hands and cutting through my clothes. Then I was rolling along the bonnet, the metal twisted at odd angles and spiking up. A piece caught my leg, just below my right knee, but the speed I had been thrown at was still strong and I was wrenched forwards, the metal slicing a long gash down my leg. The next thing I knew, I was spread out on the ground.

It took me a few minutes to realise what had happened. I had crashed. I had crashed the car. And I was now on the ground. Beaten up and battered down.

I just lay there for what felt like... Hours... Wonderful, beautiful hours... Just staring up at the sky... The stars were out. Each one twinkling like a diamond. So bright. Yet so far away. So, so far away.

Eventually though, the shock and adrenaline wore off and I became consciously aware of my rather painful injuries.

My right leg was sliced open and dripping with blood. My right hand had pieces of glass lodged in it. And basically, my whole left side was severely bruised. SEVERELY bruised.

* * *

Slowly I sat up, shaking the dizziness from my head. I was about 3 or 4 meters away from the car. Or what was left of it. The front was destroyed, windscreen broken, paint ripped off, and the metal currently lodged in either the tree, or my leg. The sides were more... Decent... With just the metalwork scratched and the drivers door buckled in. And the back was ok. Not a scratch. Bloody ferrari's. The Italians fucked them up big time.

I waited a few minutes for the haziness to pass, before standing up, leaning solely on my left leg. My other leg was in agony. But I didn't care. I was still in a daze that my family for the past 14 months weren't related to me in any way at all. We weren't even from the same country. Lies. Everything was a lie.

Ignoring the memories, ignoring the car, and ignoring the pain, I began to walk, limping down the road as I tried to clear my head. I couldn't go back. Not back to Alicia. Not back to the kids. Not back to the same people I had loved and adored for over a year. They had become my family. Or so I thought. And now... Now that was gone. All gone. Just retched away from me as soon as I got used to it. They were just... Gone.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

After I don't know how long, I finally cleared my head enough to stop walking and figure out where I was. I looked around, surprised at how familiar the place was. Somehow, I had ended up at the same place I had been brought to less then 12 hours before. Slowly, I turned around, smiling slightly when I saw the wire chain link fence. In the very early morning light, I could just about make out the worn down old buildings behind it. That's where Natasha and Tony had brought me. That's where the end had started. But that's all so where I realised who I truly was. Clint Barton. AKA, Hawkeye. Not Sebastian Gomez. Not the Mexican. But the American. I was an American archer. And archery was what I was brought here for.

* * *

With quiet a lot of pain and time later, I made it over the fence and down the other side, following the path Natasha had led me along before until I reached the 'courtyard'. It was early, around 3am I guessed, and there was just enough light to be able to look around. The target boards were still there. As was the quiver and bow. MY quiver and bow. Mine. And just mine.

* * *

Smiling slightly, I limped over to them, opening up the bow and picking up an arrow. The worlds best marksmen. It was about time I saw that for myself. I notched the arrow, and pulled back the string, aiming at the first target sheet. It was a well practiced move and I did it with ease. Now I just had to fire. To let go.

A small while later, I folded up the bow and put it down next to the, now-empty, quiver. I had fired every single arrow. All 39 of them. And each hit their targets dead on. Bullseye. Straight in the centre of each board. Maybe the worlds best archer wasn't that made up after all.

* * *

Another hour passed... Another hour came... Another hour passed... I was literally counting the seconds. Every single second. My mind was numb. My body was numb. And my heart was numb. I didn't have a kind, caring wife. I didn't have a beautiful, bubbly daughter. I didn't have a cheeky, mischievous son. And I didn't have a second daughter, currently fighting for her life in hospital. I didn't have a family. I didn't have a home. I didn't have anything. And the tears slowly continued to trickle down my face.

* * *

"Clint?" Someone asked but I didn't move from where I currently sat, the edge of the third floor in the wall-less building, hugging my knees and wishing I would just wake up and this would be a dream.

"Clint... Jeasus Christ" the same person muttered, "BRUCE HE'S IN HERE".

Bruce? Hey, I knew a Bruce... Slowly I looked down at the guy talking. Tony. Tony would help me wouldn't he? Surely he wasn't just a lie too...

"Just stay there and we'll come up to you ok?" Tony said as Bruce appeared around the corner. He took one look at me before rushing after Stark to the nearest stairs. A few minutes later they were next to me.

"Clint? Hey, come on Legolas, this thing could collapse any minute" Tony said softly, holding out his hand. I didn't move. I didn't want to move. I didn't want anyone to know I existed anymore.

"He's in shock. And he'll need a hospital within the next five minute if he's going to survive" Bruce said, fussing about with my pulse and poking me and stuff.

Tony tuned back to me, "Come on mate, you gotta try".

I remained silent. Numb... Just so, so numb...

* * *

He sighed and turned to Bruce, muttering something before gently pulling me to my feet, "Clint, you got to help me out here. Jesus your heavy. Cut back on the Tacos will ya? Anyway. Doesn't matter. But you gotta move. Try to walk. Try to stand. I can't carry you. Not on my own. And Nat's gone off threatening people and Steve's... I don't know what Steve's doing. So that neither leaves me and Bruce to get you to a hospital and fucks sake your heavy. Just... Just try to do this ok?".

I nodded silently, trying to balance on my good leg but man did I suddenly feel weak. Completely exhausted. Drained. I stumbled but the other two caught me, putting my arms around their shoulders as we began to slowly walk down the stairs.

"Blood loss. Shock. His legs shredded. Hands filled with glass. Particularly viscous cut on his forehead. And until we get out of this building, I can't tell what else is wrong" Bruce explained quickly, as they rushed me towards an awaiting car outside. Tony got into the drivers seat while Bruce gently helped me in the back, getting in the opposite side and fussing about again.

* * *

"Clint? Clint you gotta tell me what happened" Bruce said and I opened my mouth, before closing it again. What could I say? What was there to say?

"I... I..." I trailed off, "... Car crashed".

He smiled, "that much I saw for myself. Poor Ferrari's destroyed. How did you crash?".

He was just trying to get me to get talking. To not fall asleep. If I did, I might not wake up again.

"... Stuff" I said, smiling slightly, "Wife's not my wife... Kids not my kids... Fucking life's a lie".

"She actually came clean?" Tony asked in front of us and I nodded weakly, "No relation what so ever".

"Bitch" he muttered and I grinned, "Thats my ex-wife your talking bout Stark".

"Well, logically, no, actually. Since ye were never really married, it doesn't count" he replied, grinning at me through the rear view mirror.

"Ok, so you are thinking. A lot. But how did you manage to get from there, to where we found you?" Bruce asked and I shrugged, wincing as the pain suddenly flared up, "Walked".

"You walked? With that leg?" He asked incredulously and I nodded, "as you said. I had a lot on my mind".

"So you found out your family wasn't actually in fact your family, then you managed to slam into a tree, and to top all that off, you somehow walked 7 miles with out medical treatment?" Tony asked.

"7 miles? Further than I thought I'd stop at" I muttered and Bruce sighed, prodding at my chest, "3, possibly 4, broken ribs. A reasonably larger amount cracked. Stark, how long til-".

"We're here" Tony said cutting him off and I glanced up as he parked the car outside the hospital, "Man you drive fast".

* * *

"Yep. Now do you want a wheelchair and a huge fuss Legolas? Or do you want to throw an arm over my shoulder and act like you aren't almost dead?" He asked, helping me out.

I sighed, "I'd prefer if I wasn't half dead in the first place. As for wheelchairs? No way".

"Come on then" he said grinning, putting my good arm around his back while Bruce spoke to someone on the phone.

Hanging up, he turned back to us, "The other two are on there way".

"You got to be kidding me, your bringing them into this?" I asked, "It's completely avoidable and I absolutely HATE fuss".

"So you sure you don't want a wheelchair?" Tony asked, smirking at me as we stumbled through the doors.

"No way" I mumbled and he laughed, looking around for someone to help.

* * *

"Bas?" Someone asked and I smirked, looking up at the voice, "Hey Alex".

He ran forward, clearly worried, "What the fuck happened to you?".

"A Mexican who not only speaks English, but can swear in English too. Gotta cross that one off the list" Tony muttered and we both turned to him.

I smiled, "Stark, this is Alex Greenway. Alex, this is the great Tony Stark".

"THE Tony Stark?" Alex asked and Tony smirked, "you have heard of me. How quaint".

"Your... Like... Awesome... The Arc Reactor... And the Iron Man suit" Alex stammered.

"Didn't think Mexicans knew anything besides Lawn Mowers and Tacos" Tony replied and I sighed, "Ok, Tony, play nice. And Alex, while your fanboy side is excited and happy and Oh-My-God-It's-Tony-Stark-Ing, I seriously need the doctor side right now. And Stark, if you make him cry I will personally END you. And- Jeasus I feel sick...".

* * *

And that's when I fainted.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

I woke up to an all-too familiar beeping. A very ANNOYING beeping. Heart Monitor. In a hospital. The same hospital I volunteered at. And then I had to go and crash the car and postpone medical treatment like the moran I was.

Slowly, I flickered open my eyes and looked around. Hospital room. Definitely in a bad condition then.

* * *

"Clint?" someone asked and I turned to the voice, wincing as it pulled at my neck, "Hey Stark".

"Jeasus Legolas, DON'T. DO. THAT" he said, leaning back in his chair next to my bed, "We thought you had DIED!".

"So why weren't you at my funeral?" I asked, managing to keep a straight face. He took one look down at me before we both started laughing.

"Glad to see you still have your humour" someone muttered darkly and I turned to find Natasha sitting on a counter in the corner.

"Never lost it" I replied grinning and she glared at me, "You almost died you moran. As it happens, your heart actually stopped. Then Stark here got the bright idea of electrocuting you, and you decided to breathe again".

"I DIED?" I asked, glancing up at Tony. He nodded once. Grinning, I turned back to Natasha, "Awesome".

"No. Not awesome Clint. Dangerous. Very, very dangerous. Bruce said right being right, your heart should have given out hours before they found you. Blood loss, blood poisoning, hypovolemia. It was only because of your own damn stubbornness that kept you going" she replied sighing.

I frowned, turning to Tony, "How did you find me?".

"Bruce was driving back to the hotel, saw a car wrapped around a tree, realised it was yours, and more or less panicked. He couldn't find you anywhere at the crash site but being the doctor he is, he guessed that you would not be in the best condition… and also the fact the front of the car was covered in blood, so he continued home, got me and the others, and we spent a good hour or two looking for you. Then we realised if the whole Alicia thing ended up in the worst possible way, you'd do what Hawkeye usually does. Shoot things. So we went back to the target building, and found you had decided to get a bullseye on every board instead of going to hospital, you crazy son of a bitch" he replied grinning and I smirked, "World's best marksman".

* * *

"Aint that a fact" he muttered, "So you know the rest… unless you kind of died…".

"And you shocked me" I said and he nodded, "Yep. And it worked. Then they got a stretcher and loads of doctors and nurses and shit. You had 'Emergency Surgery' to take out the metal from your leg, and the glass in your hand. Then they stitched you up, gave you extra blood, and, well, that's it. You've been out for… just over 4 days now".

"Four days" I muttered, "And I'm guessing you didn't take too kindly to an unwanted visitor".

He laughed, "Alicia? Oh yea. Nat over there decided… to have a political disagreement on your current welfaring possibilities".

I stared at him confused, before turning to Natasha, "A political disagreement on my current welfaring possibilities?".

She shrugged, "I threatened her".

I laughed, "You threatened her? Seriously? What the hell could you threaten her about?".

"Here we go" Stark muttered as Natasha stood up angrily, "What could I threaten her about? What I could NOT threaten her about would be a much shorter list. She lied to you. She manipulated you. She tricked you into believing you had a family. For 14 months. 14 MONTHS CLINT! Over a year. The whole time we were looking for you. Its because of her you left. Its because of her you went for a drive. Its because of her you crashed. Its because of her you didn't go to hospital. And its because of HER YOU ACTUALLY DIED. What do you THINK I threatened her about?".

* * *

Ouch. Harsh. Very harsh.

* * *

She took a deep breath and calmly sat back down, "She no longer has access to this room. And never will as long as one of the Avengers are here".

"… I'm guessing ye're not letting out of ye're sight again?" I asked and she nodded, "No way".

I sighed, leaning back against the headboard, wincing as my head hit metal. I really hated hospital beds.

* * *

Another hour later, and Alex had arrived, eyes red from crying. When he saw me awake he froze, before hitting me the back of my head angry.

"Good to see you too buddy" I teased, smirking at him, and he pulled me into a hug, "You're a fucking idiot do you know that?".

"It seems to be everyone's choice of words recently" I replied nodding and he grinned, pulling back, "Of course it is. I'm guessing morons on the list as well?".

"Oh yea, way up top. And I'm sure son of a bitch came in once or twice" I replied smirking and he laughed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, "You do realise dieing is not acceptable in this current day and age right?".

"Tell me about it. I'm dead for like, a split second, and I don't even get a funeral" I exclaimed grinning and he smirked back, before it abruptly fell, "Wanna give me a reason why Alicia is in tears and not allowed in?".

"No" I replied sighing.

"Bas" he warned.

"Clint" I corrected and he looked at me confused, "What?".

"My real names Clint Barton" I said, "The whole amnesia thing fucked up my mind, and Alicia led me to believe that her and the kids were my family. They were not. They are not. And I am not Sebastian Gomez".

"… Clint Barton? Seriously? Wow… wait, wouldn't that make you…".

"Hawkeye" I finished for him, "Yea. It does. I am. Nice to meet you".

* * *

"So Alicia's not your wife?" he asked and I shook my head, "Nope. Not even the kids are related".

Alex had been here for a good hour, and we just talked about random stuff. It was nice to get my mind of all the shit that had happened.

"Wow. You do realise I might possibly kill her right?" he asked.

"Get in line" someone muttered harshly and we both looked up as Steve stormed in, followed by a very calm and relaxed Bruce.

"Guys this is Alexander Greenway, a doctor and a personal friend, and Alex this is Dr. Bruce Banner and Steve… Steve… What is your last name? I… I… I just can't actually remember" I asked, looking over at him.

He smiled, "Memory loss tends to do that. I don't blame you. Its Rogers. Steve Rogers".

"Captain America" Alex said turning to him and he nodded once, while Bruce chuckled, "Got another fan cap".

"Wo, wo, wo, wait a minute" I said, looking back at Alex, "You know who he is… And you know who he is" I continued, turning to Bruce, "Well, actually, you'd kind of have to know who he is since you work with him and shit… Am I the only one here who doesn't know who he is?".

"14 months and Amnesia buddy, mess's with your mind" Alex teased, patting me on the head, before pointing at Bruce, "If it helps, I know who he is too".

"… I have too-many severely fucked up friends" I complained and he laughed, glancing at his watch, "Iv got a meeting in 5 minutes. Boss'll kill me if I'm late".

I rolled my eyes, "Fucking moran he is. You better go. You've already ditched too many times for his liking".

He nodded in agreement, before standing up and patting my shoulder, "I'll visit again later. In the mean time… Just don't die again all right?".

I grinned at him, "I'll try".


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

Four days and a lot of persuasion later, I was allowed to go home. Then again, I didn't actually go home. I went to Alex's. He practically forced me to stay at his place until things died down a bit. So that's how I ended up crashing on his couch for the night. But he didn't care. He was single, no girlfriend or wife, and no kids. The only thing he shared he apartment with, was a rather intelligent cat called Midnight. And so, I stayed with him.

* * *

Sighing, I checked my phone again. 24 missed calls. All from Alicia. Surprise, surprise.

"What's up?" Alex asked, coming over and sitting down next to me.

I sighed again, "SHE has tried to call me over 20 times in the past hour".

"You know what you gotta do right?" He asked and I smirked, "Don't answer?".

"No, you just don't answ- Yea. Don't answer" he replied laughing and I smiled weakly, "still need to get some stuff out of the house though"

. "Like?" He asked.

"Like clothes, money, food" I replied and he looked at me, "food?".

"Yea. Your fridge is empty. Literally. All that's in there is a mouldy ham and cheese sandwich, and a 6 pack of beers".

"...We got beer?" He asked and I grinned, "Yes Alex. We got beer. Carlsberg. Being the fucking Brit that you are".

"Would you prefer if I had scotch? Or tea?" He teased and I sighed, "Id drink anything now. Just to keep my mind of things".

"That's settled then" he announced standing up. I looked up at him confused, "what?".

"You. Me. The pub. Tonight" he said and I sighed, "getting drunk Alex will not help anything".

"It'll take your mind off all the fucked up shit going on in your life right now. And It'll block out the pain". I looked up surprised and he sighed, "Yes Clint. I know about the pain. I'm still a doctor after all. And all your different injuries are killing you. But your too fucking stubborn to let anyone help".

"I'm fine Alex" I muttered and he frowned at me, "Fine? You were thrown through a glass windscreen at 200 mph and got caught in twisted metal. The force of the throw almost ripped your leg off. Then there's your hand. And your ribs. And you've two cracked collar bones. Not to mind all the emotional shit you've had to cope with... Your the opposite of fine Clint".

"Alex. I'm fine. Seriously" I said again and he sighed, grabbing his car keys off the kitchen table, "Fine. Be like that. But I got work. So... See you later yea?".

"See ya" I muttered, watching him shoot me a worried glance before disappearing out the door.

* * *

I waited about 10 minutes before getting up. Alex would be at the hospital until 6, and Alicia wouldn't be home until half 2. That gave me... About 3 hours to get everything before anyone noticed. Plenty of time.

* * *

Half an hour later I was sliding my key into the lock, surprised to find the door already open. Guess Alicia was home. I debated on leaving for a few seconds before shaking my head. No, I would have to face her sooner or later. Even if I preferred it to be later. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, closing it behind me before turning to face the other person in the room. They grinned at me, "And how's my baby brother getting on?".

I froze. The person in front of me was definitely not Alicia. Or any of the kids. Or anyone I could possibly know.

* * *

"What? No hug?" He asked. First of all, he was not my brother. Second of all, he must be working with Alicia. And third if all, he was likely armed.

Slowly, I reached behind my back, putting my hand on the door knob as I faked a smile, "Long time no see". He frowned slightly, glancing me up and down before taking a step forward. And I panicked.

I quickly spun around, throwing open the door, but before I could take even one step forward, I heard a muffled bang, and a piercing pain shot through my shoulder.

"Close the door" the man hissed and I silently did as told, putting my hand over the blood seeping through my shirt. Bullet wound. Bastard shot me.

"Good lad. Now sit the fuck down on the ground and stay put" he said again, lowering a gun. Slowly I bent down, biting back a cry as it seriously killed my leg, and put the cane across my lap. Yep, I had a walking cane. Forced to have it until my legs fully healed. And as much as I hated the blasted thing, right now, I considered it my only weapon.

* * *

"Oi, Mike, get in here" the man yelled, keeping his eyes locked on me, and a few seconds later, an older looking man, Mike I presumed, emerged from the dining room.

When he saw me he grinned, "Thought you'd never find out". Find out? What?

"Then again, when your precious Avengers got involved, it was only a matter of time before you found out you were in fact Mr. Barton".

"Please" I said, smirking at him, "call me Clint".

"Oooh, very fancy aren't we? Turned posh have you?" He asked and I laughed, "there's a different between 'Posh' and 'I'm going to make this more humiliating for you when you get your ass kicked' Mikey".

"Did he just nickname me John?" he asked, turning to the other man. John nodded.

"Did you just nickname me Clint?" Mike asked again, turning back to me.

"I did. But that's not your nickname". I replied and he smirked, amused, "then tell me, please, what IS my nickname?".

I looked between them, before pointing at John, "I think I'll call you Maureen, and you Brittany" I finished, pointing at Mike.

"He just did not" John said and Mike nodded, "he just did".

"Listen Barton. We're just here to kill you. We don't know what you are. We don't care. We don't know your past. We don't care. And we don't know why we have to kill you. And guess what? We don't care" Mike said and I nodded, "I see your point Brittany, but I really don't care".

He faltered slightly, "what?".

"Go ahead kill me. I don't care" I said shrugging, "I should be at work now. But I'm not. Cause my life's to fucked up for me to give a shit. So I took off early. And came back here. To kill myself".

* * *

They both glanced over at each other before John tucked the gun into his shorts waistband and said down on the stairs across from me, "Damn it man, your life's fucked up bro".

"Tell me about it" I muttered, looking down at my hands. One in a white bandage. One in perfect condition.

"Well... You see I don't really like killing people man, but it's money and I'm good at it. So... Spill your sorrows or something cause we ain't got shit else to do" he said and I glanced up at them, "it all started with this girl...".

* * *

"Wo, wo, wo, so this... This chick... She pretended to be your WIFE?" Mike asked and I nodded.

He gave a low whistle, "man that shits... That shits harsh man. How you put up with her for so long?".

I shrugged, "no idea. But now you know my story. So if you wouldn't mind". I pointed at his gun.

He sighed, standing up and walking over to me, putting the gun against my head, "hope this helps bro".

And that's when I fought back.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

I quickly ducked as he pulled the trigger, the bullet going harmlessly over my head, before I spun around, kicking his legs out from under him and hitting him across the head with my cane as he tripped. A split second later, he fell to the ground, knocked out.

I quickly picked up his gun, pointing it at Mike as I pulled myself up, "Honestly Brittany? Suicide? You fell for the SUICIDE TRICK? Man that's the oldest one in the book".

He stared at me in shock, "you... But... Wha-".

"Brittany? Shut up" I told him, walking over and hitting him across the head with the gun before he could do anything. He fell into my arms unconscious. Jeasus was he heavy. Shifting his weight onto my good hand, I dragged him over to John, tying their hands and legs together with a curtain tie. That was quick and easy.

Minus the fact I had a bullet in my shoulder.

* * *

"Clint? Where the FUCK ARE YOU? We've been worried sick" Natasha yelled when she answered. I decided to ring her to help... Well... To help with the current problem.

"Worried? What?" I asked confused.

"Your doctor buddy rang you a couple times and got no answer. Straight to voicemail. So after the 11th or 12th call, he got worried. And told us. Stark went to the flat and you weren't there so now everyone's worried and shit. Well, actually, there not anymore cause they're currently crowed around my phone and stuff and, just, where the hell are you?" She asked again.

"Back home. Where Alicia lives. Where I used to live" I replied.

"And why the fuck are you there?" She asked.

"I needed to get some things, seriously, Alex is rubbish when it comes to food" I replied and I heard a laugh somewhere in the background. Guess Alex heard me.

"So, anyway, I kind of ran into a bit of trouble... Two bits of trouble actually" I explained.

"Clint? What happened?" She asked warily.

"Just... Just don't freak out ok?" I asked.

"Fine, I won't" she replied. "Promise?" I asked again.

"Yea yea, I promise. Can't be that bad" she grumbled.

"Well you know the guy who shot me that night I went off the radar? Yea well he had a buddy helping him. And, well, they're here, and he kind of shot me again" I said calmly.

"WHAT THE FUCK? JEASUS CHRIST. WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU SERIOUS? SHIT. JEASUS CLINT, IM PANICKING HERE. JUST... JEASUS MAN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDD-".

"Nats freaking out" someone else said, cutting her off as I heard repeating banging, "And that's her hitting her head off the wall".

* * *

Steve. "I did warn her" I said meekly.

"I know. We all heard her promise... Twice. So would you mind explaining why exactly she's running around in circles and swearing to herself in angry Russian?" He asked and I sighed, "... How bout I explain when you get here. I seriously doubt any of ye will remain calm".

"You'd be surprised. Bruce here's great at stuff like that. And the wars iv been through really makes you remain focused" he said, way too cheerily.

"Ah... Yea. Sure. But this is... Kinda big" I mumbled.

"Clint. Talk. Now" he ordered.

"You asked for it" I muttered, "Ok so the guy who more or less kidnapped me 14 months ago had a buddy. A friend who helped him... Relocate me. Partners in crime. And they... Well... They're kind of... Currently Right next to me... And decided to shoot me again and... Cap?".

It was silent on the other end of the line.

"He's panicking".

"Oh, hey Bruce" I said happily.

"Hey Clint. Now, do I WANT to know what happened to get the two calmest people I know in utter craziness?" he asked and I smirked, "Ah... No. Not really. But you WILL need your medical bag".

"Your hurt?" He asked surprised.

"Amongst other things" I replied. Confused for example.

"Right... Serious or minor?" He asked, suddenly in doctor mode.

"Depends on the patient" I replied grinning.

"Then let me rephrase that. Bullet or knife?" He asked calmly.

"Bullet" I replied and he swore lightly, "We'll be there in 10 minutes".

* * *

"7 minutes and 34 seconds. Not bad" I mused, grinning as the others burst through the door. I was sitting on the second last step of the stairs, my head resting against the railing, my hand clasped over my shoulder, and a small trail of blood dripping down the stairs and making a large puddle on the ground.

Bruce was immediately at my side, taking off my shirt to get a better look at the wound while the others were slower to react. In fact, Bruce was almost finished the stitches by the time they realised what had happened.

"You killed them?" Tony asked, pointing at the men.

"Unconscious. Their better use alive" I replied.

"How dya knock them out so easily?" He asked and I sighed, "Told them I want to commit suicide".

* * *

All pairs of eyes were immediately on me. It took a few seconds to realise why.

* * *

"Wait... Ye think? That I? Fuck no. Guys, I'm not trying to kill myself, honestly. It's just a very useful thing to say when you need to buy time to think".

They still looked uneasy.

"Guys. I swear on my li- actually no. Swearing on my life right now is not a good example in this situation. I PROMISE that I am NOT trying to kill myself. AT ALL. And as far as I can remember, I never did try. Nor will I ever. But if you tell two armature assassins that your depressed and miserable and actually WANT them to kill you, they feel bad for you. Sorry for you. And so, they wanna hear your story. Which buys you time. And they'll go easy on you and end your life quickly. A bullet to your head. Which is a very simple position to get out of" I said honestly, "Look, I cross my hea- wait. No. Also not a very good explanation in this current situation. But do you honestly think id try to commit SUICIDE?".

"Would explain a lot of things" Tony muttered and I looked up at him, "like what?".

"Like the car crash" he said and I smirked, "Bruce said himself I should have been dead hours before ye found me. I kept fighting to stay alive. So no, that's ruled out".

"...You promise?".

"Yes. I promise. Even though I can't believe the worlds greatest genius would think that I'm trying to kill myself" I replied and he sighed, "Look Clint. I don't know what to think. Your fine. Then you go missing. Your fine. Then you've crashed. Your fine. Then you get shot by two bad guys. The list goes on and on and on".

"I'm sorry all right? Is that what you want? Cause I don't want to get into these things. You actually think I wanted to get fucking shot? Or that I wanted to wake up in a French Hospital and not even remember my own bloody name? Cause I don't. Trust me, I don't" I shot back and he sighed again, walking over and sitting down next to me, "I know you don't want to Legolas, but it still happens. I mean look at you, you've got four bullet scars across your chest and a fifth in your arm, another scar across your stomach from metal, and your shoulders and back are covered in them from being caught in an explosion. All this shit has still happened whether anyone wanted it to or not".

* * *

"Not to break up your heart to heart sickly emotional conversation here, but the stitches are done".

I turned to Bruce laughing, "Thank god. Another moment staring into his dreamy brown eyes and I would have kissed him".

"Oh so you admit my eyes are dreamy now?" Tony teased and I playfully pushed him, "Not at all. I just don't want you to get upset when you realise how much cuter Bruce's are".

"My colour browns awesomer" he argued, sticking out his tongue at Bruce who just grinned and tidied up his bag.

* * *

"Ok, SHELD's here in an hour" Natasha said suddenly, snapping shut her phone.

"An hour? What do we do with them until then?" Tony asked, tearing his gaze from mine.

"... No idea" she replied, "Cap?".

Steve sighed, "what else can we do but wait?".


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

"Bas?" Someone asked quietly and we all looked up.

Alicia.

She was standing, frozen in place, in the doorway, Rosa and Raffy at her side.

Natasha took a dangerous step towards her and I sighed, "Tash, don't, ok? Just don't". She reluctantly stopped and instead fixed her best glare at Alicia.

It was silent for a split second before Raffy let go of her hand and ran over to me, "Daddy, I mwissed you".

I smiled slightly, sitting him up on my lap, "I missed you too buddy".

He gave me a tight hug, arms wrapped around my neck, "Never leave again. Pwomise?".

"... I'll try Raf, I'll try" I finally muttered.

He pulled back and looked up at the others confused before turning back to me, "who're they?".

I laughed, looking up at them, "Guys this is Rafael Gomez. Raffy this is... A bunch of superheroes".

"Superheroes?" He asked excitedly, eyes wide as he turned to stare at Steve then back at me, seeming to ask for permission. I nodded, smirking.

* * *

Slowly he slid off my lap and shyly walked over to Cap, looking up at him, "Your big".

Steve grinned and bent down to his height, "this better?".

Raffy nodded, giving him a hug. Cap froze for a moment before hugging back.

"You a superhero?" Raffy asked, as he pulled back and Steve nodded, "I am".

"What's your superhero name?" Raffy asked again.

"Captain America" Steve replied and Raffy smirked, "That's a funny name".

"It is" Steve agreed smiling.

Raffy looked around for a minute before tugging Cap him down closer to him and whispering something to him. Steve looked up at Tony and started laughing.

* * *

"What?" Tony asked.

"He wants to know why you got sunglasses on inside" Cap replied and Stark smirked, looking over at Raffy, "wanna know a secret?". Raffy nodded and slowly went over to him.

"I can shoot lasers out of my eyes. The sunglasses stop me" Tony whispered and I sighed, shoving him, "Come on Stark, play nice. And NO turning him into a mini genius. Kid won't be able to cope with all that information".

"Fine" Tony muttered sighing, turning back to Raffy, "I'm Iron Man. I have a big giant metal suit that shoots things. The sunglasses are just for style. That's it".

"...Your weird" Raffy replied and Tony smirked, "Trust me kid, you're not the first one to say that".

* * *

Alicia slowly walked over next to me, Rosa in tow who immediately grabbed onto me, "will you just let me explain?".

I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly, "Fine. You got 5 minutes".

"In private" she said. I stared at her for a minute before starting to get up, only for Bruce to push me back down, "you got to stay here. Your in no fit condition to be walking around right now... We'll leave".

"Thanks mate" I replied smiling weakly and he grinned, "No bother".

Natasha slowly walked over, gently taking Rosa's hand, leading her into the sitting room with the others, Raffy bouncing after Bruce. Alicia sighed, sitting down next to me on the step, "it all started three and a half years ago...".

* * *

Half an hour later, she was done explaining.

"Thats everything?" I asked quietly and she nodded, "Everything".

"...Would you mind sending in Stark? Bruce'll kill me if I get up" I said and she nodded, slowly wandering into the sitting room.

A few minutes later, Tony walked over and sat down in her place, "Tell me the bad news first".

"We're actually married" I replied.

"What?" He asked shocked, staring at me and I nodded, "Yea. I kind of got drunk one night and took a trip to Vegas".

"...And the good news?" He asked and I smiled slightly, "I can't remember it".

* * *

"Man your fucked" Tony said next to me, after he had told the others what had happened. I honestly couldn't be bothered to. So I just leant my head back against the railing and listened to the story get retold.

"Ok, so you and Alicia are actually married. And Raffy and Andrea are your kids, but not Rosa?" Steve asked and I nodded, "Rosa's father was... Well, lets just say he's currently in prison. And she doesn't know any different from me".

"Ouch" Natasha muttered, "Well this changes things".

I looked up at her confused and she sighed, "You work for SHIELD, which is a VERY VERY VERY different version of the CIA, but you could still be classed as cop. And she manipulated you. Which would have the same sentence as purposely lying to a police officer. She could do time".

"Which would leave the kids with me, the two youngest with their father and Rosa as an orphan, so no thank you" I replied firmly.

"They will find out you know. SHIELD I mean" Bruce said quietly, "they'll want to know how you got this house, and why there's toys around the place. They'll arrest her".

"I won't let them" I muttered harshly, "no matter what Alicia did, she did it cause she had no other option".

"She could have said no" Natasha shot back and I laughed, "they put a gun against her head, and threatened to kill her children. I doubt she would have denied".

A sudden slamming of doors caught out attention and Steve pulled back the curtain next to him, "Fury's here".

* * *

"Agent Barton" Fury said, pushing open the doors and walking up to me. I continued to stare blankly at my hands, "What do you want?".

He stared at me for a minute, "I was under the impression you had memory loss".

"And I do. But a one-eyed man in a trench coat is rather hard to forget" I replied boredly and Tony muffled a laugh, "aw come on Nickie, you were just asking for that one".

"Stark" he warned and Tony smirked, "Shutting up now".

"Good" Fury replied sighing, before turning back to me, "You look like shit".

"Likewise" I shot back but he ignored me, "what the fuck happened to you?".

"Lets see... oh yea, a car crash... And two French contract killers" I replied calmly and he looked me up and down, "and the burn marks?".

"The result of disarming a tank when it explodes".

"... We'll be in touch".

"I bet you will".

* * *

"So let me get this straight" Alex said, taking a swig of beer, "three years ago, ye guys got drunk, went to Las Vegas, and got married. Resulting in Raffy. Then almost two years ago, you got completely wasted at a nightclub, she found you again, ye had a one night stand and she got pregnant with Andrea?".

We were sitting at the bar in a pub, as Alex had promised.

I nodded, "Pretty much. And now SHIELD and the Avengers want me back in Manhattan".


	22. Chapter 22 (Final)

_**I HAVE CHANGED THE ENDING!**_

* * *

**C****HAPTER 22**

Back to Manhattan. The words felt strange in my mouth. For the past 15 months I had lived in Mexico. Now I was moving to New York? Of course, I could always decline their offer. But they actually needed me. Both on the team and off. That's the only reason I'd go. But now that I knew I had a wife and two kids, as well as another little girl who believed I was her father, things changed. Even though I thought I had the same family before the Avengers found me. And then there was Alex. And the hospital. And college. My house was in Manhattan, but my home was here. I was torn between the two. But I could only pick one.

* * *

A door opening snapped me from my thoughts and I glanced up as Alicia slowly came into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw me, as if deciding in wether to leave or not, but I motioned for her to sit. Slowly, she did so, taking the seat across from me at the table.

"I... They want me back at Manhattan" I said after a few silent minutes and she nodded, "Ok... And?".

"... And I'm not entirely sure wether to go or not" I admitted.

She stared at me, "Isn't that what you want? For things to go back to normal?".

"Yea but... Well... I have so many things here as well".

"Like?" She asked gently.

"Like you and the kids. Like friends. Like houses and cars. All that would be gone if I left".

"Well... When do you have to decide?" She asked and I sighed, looking up at the clock, "In the next half an hour".

"Then you better start deciding".

I looked up. She was just as beautiful as the first time I saw her, except for a few rings under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she was still just as Smart and Talented. She was still the same woman I fell in love with. Despite everything that had happened.

"I..." I trailed off, avoiding her gaze, "I think I... As stupid as this sounds... I think I love you...".

She stared at me, "... As messed up as I am... I kinda love you too".

"... So what now?" I asked quietly and she shrugged, "The Avengers need you. Go kill some bad guys or something".

"This family needs me" I replied.

"We do... But I think the worlds a bit more important".

I thought for a minute, "... Couldn't we find some way to do both?"

* * *

"So... I guess this is it then" Alex said and I nodded, "I'll... Call you when I get there".

We stared at each other for a few minutes before he pulled me into a hug, "You better fucking visit".

I laughed, "How's next Sunday sound?".

He pulled back and stared at me, "That long? I'll probably be dead by then".

"Alex. Your a doctor. It's pretty difficult for you to not notice when your about to die".

"... Good point" he replied grinning, "You sorted things out with Alicia?".

"Yep. We're... Taking things slow" I said and he smirked, "You know, normally people date before they get married".

"Yea. Well. I got married before we dated. You should know by now I do things awkwardly" I shot back and he grinned, "I'm gonna miss you buddy".

"As crazy as it seems... I'm gonna miss your fucked up ways too".

He gave me another hug before practically shoving me out the door, "Don't you dare forget about me".

"How can I?" I called back, "Your practically the only person I know".

* * *

And then... Then I was here. In Manhattan. In New York. And currently walking along the street with Stark.

"You know. I was actually beginning to think you'd never be found. And then we checked Mexico" Tony said suddenly and I turned to him, "Well, ye were always going to find me eventually. It was just a matter of time".

"14 months" he replied nodding, "Took us long enough".

"Any of ye ever think maybe I was dead?" I asked and he stared at me, "No... Why?".

I shrugged, "After the explosion, the fire, the tank, the car crash, and not to mind 4 bullets holes... I'm kind of fucked up. I SHOULD be dead".

"... And you said you weren't suicidal" he said sighing and I grinned, "I'm just wondering since I survived all that shit, how messy will my actual death be?".

"You do have a point... A very unfortunate one, but yea... You've kind of fucked up fate".

"Iv certainly got enough scars for it" I muttered.

He patted me on the back, "Battle scars Legolas, battle scars".

"... What did ye tell the press? When I disappeared, I mean?" I asked suddenly.

"We told them the truth... Or what we thought was the truth".

"That I had run off?" I asked.

"... More like you were checking out your options".

"Sort of true I guess" I replied and he sighed, "Yep. They'll be going crazy for you now that your back. We'll have to get a cover story for your... Absence".

"I'm guessing they'll want the FULL details about the last 15 months?" I asked.

"Oh yea. Everything".

"Well, that'll be fun" I muttered and he suddenly grinned, "We're home".

* * *

I looked up to see the Avengers tower in front of us, a tall, sleek building, at least 40 stories high.

"This is...".

"Where you used to live. Where the team lives. And where you are now once again, living" Tony finished, smirking as he led me inside.

"Mr. Barton, I am very happy of your safe return" someone said and I jumped.

Stark laughed, "Thats Jarvis. He's awesome. My own invention. He's having a little memory loss problem J".

"Of course sir, anything I can do to help?" he asked. Jarvis. Jarvis... That name was... Familiar... Actually...

I grinned and Tony stared at me weirdly, "What?".

"I remember Jarvis".

He grinned aswell, "J, you have not been forgotten".

"Always a good thing sir" Jarvis replied, "Shall I tell the others of your arrival".

"Sure, why not? Oh, and call Pepper. She doesn't know yet" Tony replied.

"Pepper?" I asked confused and he sighed, "You don't remember Pepper. Well, she's my ex-girlfriend and the CEO of Stark Industries. Her real names Virginia Potts, but everyone calls her Pepper. Including you".

"Right" I said slowly and he sighed again, "Come on, the others are in the sitting room".

* * *

A few minutes later and Natasha was pulling me into a tight hug, "Finally. I thought you'd changed your mind. And that would suck".

I laughed, "Good to see you too".

The others stuck to a more... Handshake... Kind of hello. Which was fine by me. As I had said before, I hated the fuss. It was unnecessary and slightly awkward. So the simple hello was perfect.

"Sir, Ms. Potts has arrived" Jarvis announced.

"Good. Great. Hey that's perfect. Send her up J" Tony said grinning and I frowned, "Does she...".

"Know that you can't remember her? Yep" Natasha replied and I sighed, "Well this is gonna get awkward".

"Nah. Peps cool with that. She gets that it's not your fault that you were shot and kidnapped and beaten up and then lo-".

"Stark. I get the idea" I said, cutting him off and he grinned, "Just trying to be helpful".

* * *

Meeting Pepper again was... Ok, actually... Yea, it was pretty good. Well... It wasn't as awkward as I thought it'd be. Which was pretty cool. And now, I was having a drink with Tony. Or... Well... A few drinks... The others were watching something in the room next door... Leaving Stark and I to get drunk. Which we had succeeded in brilliantly.

"Y-your f-f-fucked up" he slurred and I laughed, "Not t-the only one b-buddy".

"Oy, no n-name calling" he growled.

"Yous started-d it's" I shot back and he grinned, picking up the whiskey bottle again, "I d-did, didn't I? Hehe. S-sorry Legolas".

"Apology 'ccepted" I slurred hiccuping.

"...You k-know, I remember b-b-back before this h-happened after the Manhattan I-invasion... We gots drunk againsss... T-then Brucie c-cam in-" I didn't hear the rest.

* * *

Memories... So many memories... Budapest... Manhattan attack... SHIELD... Everything... I remembered... Everything...

* * *

I actually fell off the stool, landing on the floor below, getting a drunken laughing fit from Tony. But all the alcohol had been knocked out of me. The shock completely sobering me up. I remembered everything. EVERYTHING.

Grinning madly, I pulled Stark into a tight hug, "Your a fucking genius".

"I g-get that ALOT" he said smirking.

Laughing, I spun back around, catching my foot in upturned stool, and falling again. The scotch bottle I had been holding smashed and the glass ripped open my entire left arm, but I didn't care. I was too happy. Ignoring the blood running down my hand, I jumped up, running towards the kitchen and pushing open the doors to face a confused Steve.

"I heard a crash, what happ-YOUR ARM" he yelled, "BRUCE, GET OUT HERE".

Laughing, I looked up at him, "Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?".

"Not now. First we have to fix your arm" he said, leading me over to a chair and forcing me to sit down. I was practically bouncing in my seat.

"What's happened? It better not be Stark. Iv had it up to my neck with him" Bruce grumbled, wandering in and freezing when he saw me, "... Stay here".

"Come on Cap, guess what?" I asked again and he sighed, "...Your drunk. Anything you say now, will not be remembered in the morning. So don't say it".

"Aw but this is IMPORTANT" I whined as Bruce came running back in with a bag.

"Clint, everything's important when your drunk" Steve replied and I frowned, "But this is REALLY important... Like, MAJORLY importantly".

Bruce and Steve shared a look before the doctor turned to me, "Look at me Clint, I have to fix your arm ok? And Steve has to... Do whatever Steve does. So can it wait till morning when you'll be less drunk?".

"No" I pouted, "I have to say it now".

He sighed, taking my arm and poking at it, "Fine, what is it?".

I grinned, "I remember everything".

"... Your drunk. You don't know what your saying" Bruce said after a few minutes and I shook my head, "No, seriously. I remember EVERYTHING. Like... Like that time when we all first met. Natasha was talking to me in that little white room, you know at SHIELD, and then Steve came in and told us to suit up".

They both froze, before Bruce slowly turned to Steve, "Did that...".

"Actually happen?" Rogers asked, "Yep".

"And I remember Pepper too. How could I forget Peps? Her and Stark hate each other, then go all lovey dovey the next" I continued and Bruce laughed, "That explains them alright... You remember everything?".

"Everything... Including the morons who shot me in the first place" I said grinning and he smirked, "Well, we'll have to tell SHIELD, and the others of course".

"I'll do that" I said, "Easy peasy. And Fury be'll expecting a call soon anyway... Creepy old dude".

They both laughed, Steve sitting across the way, and Bruce stitching my arm. And damn, did that hurt. It was only now I noticed it. Jeasus.

* * *

But it was ok... Everything was ok... Because I remembered everything... I no longer had memory loss... I was back to myself again... I was no longer a Broken Arrow.

* * *

**AND IM FINALY DONE**

**SORRY FOR THE ENDING**

**I had a way better one, **

**But then my computer and laptop broke,**

**And my iPod crashed**

**So I lost everything.**

_**EVERYTHING.**_

**Pictures, videos, music, speeches, memories, my bucket list, recordings, stories, book ideas, fanfiction ideas, and at least 20 chapters of fanfictions**

**Until next time (When I will hopefully not have a computer crash)**

**Rachel**


End file.
